The Handkerchief Files
by Snapdragonroar
Summary: I.S.T.A.R.I. [Ithryn Strategic Tactics and Reconnaissance Initiative] A collection of Agent Gandalf the Grey's field reports during the events of the Quest for Erebor and the Battle of the Five Armies, regarding the events from initiation to the Carrock (Previously "Field Reports from Agent Gandalf"). The first part of Field Reports from Agent Gandalf: Operation Dragon.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2426 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Somewhere in a field**

**Date: November 6th, TA 2426**

Long have I wandered the kindly West, in the lands of simple folk. Though they have no great warriors, no kings, nor any royalty of any kind, still I suspect that there is much to learn among the common Men. I have heard whispers of a race of small beings named Hobbits; they are said to be curious creatures, of short stature and with hair on their feet. I feel it is my duty to investigate further, for the Mission.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rohan**

**Date: November 18th, TA 2426**

Gandalf. While I applaud your initiative, I have to question your motives. Why exactly are you running about with peasants and trying to discover new races? Especially as I distinctly recall that when I last sent you instructions, I ordered you to travel to Gondor, there to improve relations among the nobility and to examine defenses against potential attack from the Forces of Evil.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Another field, I think**

**Date: October something, TA 2426**

I do remember the order to visit Gondor, but I think you'll agree that, just as I suspected, further examination of these Hobbits would bear fruit. Have you heard of "Pipe-weed?"

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rohan**

**Date: October 5th, TA 2426**

No. I have not.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Someone's back garden**

**Date: Early November, TA 2426**

You should try it, really. Wonderful, marvelous stuff. I have carved myself a pipe, from which I smoke this most delightful of substances. I have found, sir, when sitting in a nice shadow, with the smoke curling up around me, and my best enigmatic expression, I present a satisfactorily Wizard-like picture.

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2463 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: August 8th, TA 2463**

I hope you don't mind that I declined the beautiful Lady Galadriel's nomination yesterday during the first White Council meeting. While I am very happy to be a member, I did not think myself suited to becoming its head. Of course, I was deeply honored by the idea. Especially after the numerous times Lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond repeated the nomination, until finally relenting and naming you as second choice. I must say, it was a great relief that you accepted the job! I think this Council will do an excellent job as a means for the Wise (us) to confer and decide how best to oversee Good in Middle-earth.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: August 8th, TA 2463**

Indeed. How wonderful to be second choice. It is a good thing I am not a jealous sort. I find myself reminded of the time Cirdan chose to give you the Red Ring of Fire instead of me, all those years ago when we first came to Middle-earth. Of course, I can see how it must have been an obvious decision. Who else would be a suitable bearer or one of the three Elvish Rings of Power but Gandalf the Grey? Imagine the ridiculousness if it had been bestowed upon anyone else.

The head of our Order, say.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell, specifically the kitchens because the cakes just came out of the ovens**

**Date: August 8th, TA 2463**

Oh, that does bring back memories. I have always tried to act with proper responsibility towards my charge.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: August 8th, TA 2463**

On that note, Gandalf, you need to stop using the Red Ring of Fire to light your pipe.

* * *

**Author's Note: While I love Tolkien's world (I show my love with horrible parodies) I'm no Tolkien scholar, so if I've erred from canon (besides, um, making the Wizards secret agents), please let me know in the comments!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2463 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: October 10th, TA 2463**

I think the first official meeting of the White Council went very well! We arranged the rest of the officer positions, discussed the murmurs of unrest in Dol Guldur, then broke for snacks.

Radagast said he had an urgent squirrel problem he had to see to, so he gave me the minutes to pass on to you.

I must thank Lord Elrond for hosting us, especially as the red wine (a Second Age vintage, if I remember correctly) was most fine.

By the way, why weren't the Blues there?

_Attached document: Minutes for White Council meeting the First, attended by Saruman the White (President), the Lady Galadriel (Vice President), Lord Elrond (Treasurer), Radagast the Brown (Secretary) and Gandalf the Grey. _

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: October 10th, TA 2463**

You don't have to write reports for events I also attended, Gandalf. I was there. I know what happened.

I have the minutes right in front of me. I can't read any of it. Can Radagast actually write? Does anyone know?

Do tell him he's not allowed to bring animals to the meetings anymore.

And the Blue Wizards are still on assignment in the Eastern Lands. They have been there for almost two thousand years. I understand certain minor details of our Mission escape you, Gandalf, so I will repeat. _Two thousand years_. Try not to forget next time. Again.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Lord Elrond's library, Rivendell**

**Date: October 10th, TA 2463**

Oh, of course! What a daft old fool I am! It's probably for the best that I wasn't voted in as an officer in the Council- imagine! Yes, it's much better that I not be given too much responsibility or duties.

I do miss the Blues most terribly, though. Even though I never could keep them straight. They didn't _both_ have to be Blue. Perhaps Turquise and Aquamarine. That would be very stylish.

And there can't be any good Pipe-weed in the East, of course. Poor things.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: October 10th, TA 2463**

Are you truly still smoking that nonsense? I had thought it was a phase.

That reminds me: I am updating our budgetary records, and as you continue to insist that the Halfling's Leaf be considered a business expense, I will need to know the exact shop which you procure it from. Merely for financial reasons, you understand. I haven't the slightest desire to start up that disgusting habit myself.

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2759 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A pub in Bree**

**Date: I prefer raisins, myself.**

My dear Saruman! Congratulations on becoming Warden of the Tower! I am sure the Gondorians are overjoyed to have you.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: March 7th, TA 2759**

Indeed. We can't all be wanderers, Gandalf. I believe it is past time I claimed myself a seat of authority of my own.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Another pub in Bree**

**Date: March 10th, TA 2759**

… I understood that Steward Beren placed you there with his permission, merely as a representative. After all, we are meant to be humble helpers for the Free People of Middle-earth. Right?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: March 14th, TA 2759**

Of course. My word choice was poor.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Who knew Bree had this many pubs?**

**Date: March 16th, TA 2759**

Oh, obviously! I was wondering, are you going to redecorate? I imagine the tower Orthanc would look stunning in plum.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isenard**

**Date: March 18th, TA 2759**

No, Gandalf.

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2850 files._

* * *

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 1st, TA 2850**

Gandalf, I need your report on the scouting mission to Dol Guldur.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A surprisingly comfortable ditch**

**Date: February 3rd, TA 2850**

Since we've got the meeting coming up, I thought I would just report to the entire Council at once. I'm on my way!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 6th, TA 2850**

Nevertheless, I believe it would be more efficient if you provided me with a report prior to our meeting. It is vital the proper people have the information as soon as possible, so that planning may begin.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: An abandonded farmhouse, I think**

**Date: Mid-Febraury, TA 2850**

Fair enough. I've sent copies to the Lady Galadriel, Lord Elrond and Radagast as well. Wouldn't want them to be kept in the dark!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 20th, TA 2850**

No. We certainly wouldn't want that.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: April 19th, TA 2850**

Another excellent meeting! And just as you'd thought, things did go much quicker since I didn't have to explain that upon entry to Dol Guldur, it was very clear that Sauron was there! The lady Galadriel and Lord Elrond immediately put for the motion that we ought to attack, and drive the foul presence out. Radagast made an odd humming noise, which I took to mean he was in favor. Then you argued that there was no need. Which… I must admit, that seemed odd. Almost as odd as you wanting me to give you the information to you only, months in advance of the others.

But I'm sure you, the wisest of our Order, know best.

Indeed, you managed to convince all of us to hold off an attack. It was a very eloquent speech.

Then we broke for snacks.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: April 19th, TA 2850**

Again, Gandalf. I was there.

* * *

**Author's Note: This chapter has been brought to you by Old Toby.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Arda, almost certainly**

**Date: January something, TA 2941**

Saruman! I've just had the most excellent idea! Do you remember a few centuries back, when that Smaug fellow smashed right into Erebor? The Lonely Mountain and Dale have never been the same since. A nasty business.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: January 6th, TA 2941**

Indeed. I am given to understand that the Men of Dale are no more, and the Dwarves are refugees.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Still Arda**

**Date: mid-January, TA 2941**

Well! I think we should help the Dwarves reclaim their ancient homeland!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: January 10th, TA 2941**

What.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: January 10th, TA 2941**

Why.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Near Bree**

**Date: February 11th, TA 2941**

Merely out of the goodness of my heart, of course. I think it is far past time such a proud people be able to return to their home.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 12th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Nearer Bree**

**Date: February 13th, TA 2941**

And, well, perhaps I grow worried that if Sauron _is_ returning, he will bring Smaug to his side. A dragon would make a fearful enemy.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 13th, TA 2941**

I can assure you, we have no need to fear that Sauron has come back in full force.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Nearerer Bree**

**Date: February 15th, TA 2941**

Yes, you keep _saying_ that. But what if he has!

And getting rid of Smaug isn't my only reason. Ha! As if I would ever do anything for _one_ reason! By reinstating the King under the Mountain and the King of Dale, we would have two strong allies to act as a buffer against any hypothetical attack Sauron might make in the East of Middle-earth.

And the new kings might find they owe the Istari a debt or two.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 16th, TA 2941**

Do you even know if these lost heirs are still alive?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bree**

**Date: February 18th, TA 2941**

Don't worry! Thror's grandson is in the Blue Mountains. And there's a descendant of Girion's in Lake-town. I do like to keep track of the lost heirs of ancient kingdoms, you know. There always seem to be such a dreadful many of them.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: February 20th, TA 2941**

I forbid this madcap scheme, Gandalf. To risk the ire of a dragon is a foolish plan.

**Agent: Ganalf the Grey**

**Location: Bree**

**Date: March 15th, TA 2941**

I met young Thorin Oakenshield in Bree today! We just happened to be at the same inn! What a coincidence! He seems a bit reserved, but he listens to logic.

"Well now," I said. "This is a fine chance. What brings Thorin Oakenshield to Bree?"

He stared at me a bit. It's understandable. Not often a Dwarf gets to see a living legend like myself! But when he finally recovered, Thorin replied that he had heard rumors of his father wandering about the Wilds. He is positive that Thrain yet lives.

Well. I couldn't exactly tell him about the Dwarf I found in Dol Guldur, tortured into madness by the orcs, could I? Thrain- for I am convinced it had been Thorin's father- hadn't been able to remember his own name, let alone his son's, when I came across him. But he still had hold of a very curious map and a key.

I am still holding on to them. I didn't deem the time quite right to return them to Thorin. Maybe when there's a larger audience.

Thorin still looked despondent, so I felt he needed a good speech. Now, Saruman, you know I pride myself on my plain speaking (we can't all have your silver tongue!) but I am not incapable of a few rousing phrases when the occasion calls for it.

"Thorin," I said, "You can wait no longer. You are the heir to the Throne of Durin. Unite the armies of the Dwarves. Together, you have the might and power to retake Erebor. Summon a meeting of the seven Dwarf families. Demand they stand by their oath."

"The seven armies swore that oath to the one who wields the King's Jewel: the Arkenstone. It is the only thing that will unite them, and in case you have forgotten, that jewel was stolen by Smaug." Thorin gave a rather impressive glower. It was obvious _he_ had not.

"What if I were to help you reclaim it?"

There was a glimmer of interest in the exiled prince's eyes. "How? The Arkenstone lies half a world away, buried beneath the feet of a fire-breathing dragon."

There! He was hooked!

"Yes, it does." I took a breath for a dramatic pause. "Which is why we're going to need a Burglar."

When I left a bit later, we'd hashed out a plan: Thorin would seek the aid of his allies among the seven clans, and then bring them to tea at my old friend Bilbo's. There, I would explain the rest of the plan. I left him the address (Thorin didn't seem overwhelmed when he learned my choice for burglar was a Hobbit). He shouldn't have any trouble finding the place.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: March 16th, TA 2941**

_Gandalf_. I gave you _strict orders_ not to continue this plan of retaking the Lonely Mountain.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A garden**

**Date: Late March, TA 2941**

You did? Oh, goodness. I certainly didn't receive that letter. It must have gotten lost in the mail. What a shame.

Oh, well. It's far too late to go back now. If only I had gotten that order.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Shire**

**Date: April 25th, TA 2941**

I saw my favorite Hobbit this morning! He's changed! I remember only a few decades ago, when Belladonna Baggins was still alive, he was quite the adventurous scamp. He appears to have grown complacent and entirely respectable! I merely told him "I'm looking for someone to share in an adventure," and he turned started stammering!

"No," he said, after choking on pipe smoke. "I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner."

Even when he remembered who I was, at least partly ("Gandalf the wandering Wizard who made such excellent fireworks" indeed), he only puffed himself up like a fussy little bird.

"We do not want any adventures here, thank you!"

Now I can't have that.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 25th, TA 2941**

Mortals change, Gandalf. It is rather what they are known for.

It does seem that you will have to call your "adventure" off, if the Burglar is disinclined to join you.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Shire**

**Date: April 25th, TA 2941**

Never fear! I'm sure once he meets Thorin's group he will change his mind quickly enough.

Which is why I marked his door on my way out. I scratched a "Burglar for Hire" rune. At least, I think that's what I wrote. My Khuzdul is a bit rusty. It is entirely possible I wrote "Abode of King Thranduil."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 25th, TA 2941**

Remind me to sign you up for remedial Khuzdul.

* * *

**Author's Note: "Never interrupt a Hobbit mid-smoke" really should be up there with "Never laugh at sleeping dragons."**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Shire**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Today's the day! I spent last night in a very comfortable ditch. Now I'm in the Shire on the way to Bilbo's. I've run into some of the Ered Luin Dwarves. Quite a motley crew. Rather odd, I'll admit. They say Thorin himself will be at Bag End with news of the allies he could get from the other Dwarven kingdoms, and they believe some of their number (those also from the Blue Mountains) are some distance ahead of us. I tell you, I can't wait to see who I'll have to work with! Truly, this will be a mighty Quest. Imagine the songs that will be told: the mighty Dwarf king returned to his throne, his fearsome army… and, of course, the wise Wizard who began it all.

We got to talking, as you do. Well, as I do, anyway. One never does know the knowledge that can be gained from the unlikeliest of conversation partners! The eight I am with currently are a varied lot, hailing from three families. They are somewhat interesting, at least for Dwarves.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

I am not interested in the life stories your new compantions, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Shire**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

The first two introduced to me are brothers: Oin and Gloin, rather high up in the Durin line of nobility. Or they would be, if the Durins were still kings in Erebor. It speaks well of Thorin that he was able to get such important people to join him. Oin, the eldest, is a healer as well as a sort of seer; he says he sees portents. I thought to give him a little test and ask him what signs he saw on the road, but unfortunately his poor hearing decided to act up again, and no matter how I shouted in his ear-horn he simply couldn't make out what I was saying. Gloin, his flame-haired brother, is that rare find: a married Dwarf. I know this because he was quick to tell me about his wife and young son. In great detail. You will be interested to hear, I'm sure, that the Mrs. Gloin and little Gimli are both the brightest jewels ever crafted by Mahal, and none can equal them. Gimli _would_ have made an excellent addition to the Quest, obviously, but is just too young. Such a shame. Apparently he was upset about being left behind. Oin muttered something that sounded like "crying," but it was hard to tell, since Gloin kept reassuring me that his son "bore the disappointment with a warrior's stoic heart."

Then there are three brothers, also of Ereborian stock but living among the refugees in Ered Luin. Dori, Nori and Ori are their names. Ah, the charming Dwarvish naming custom! What a quaint tradition. Dori acts like a mother hen, always worrying about his younger brothers- especially Ori, the youngest and a promising scribe (according to Dori). Ori didn't say much to me, but there was a great deal of awed staring. I approve of the lad. It does a Wizard's soul good to be the recipient of some awe. I am not so sure about the middle brother, Nori. Firstly, he has a ridiculous star-shaped set of braids. And secondly, I caught him trying to lift my pipe on three separate occasions during our walk. Each time, Dori smacked him, and my property was returned.

Then (I know I am going on about these Dwarves, but humor an old Wizard!) there was another grouping of three: Bifur, Bofur and Bombur. The first is a cousin, and seems very highly regarded among the Dwarves. He was wounded in the Battle of Azanulbizar; he has a piece of axe in his head! It is certainly very striking. Unfortunately, his injury means that he can only speak ancient Khuzdul, which is difficult even for me. Not that outsiders are supposed to know any Khuzdul, of course. But Bifur seems to understand Westron well enough. It's a shame, though. Imagine the stories he has to tell! His cousins, the brothers Bofur and Bombur, are very different. Bofur is almost annoyingly cheerful, with a ridiculous winged hat. Bombur is a portly fellow, red-haired and quiet. He is also married. While he wasn't as quick to sing his wife's praises as Gloin (thank the Valar), he looked all sorts of dreamy when saying her name.

I think they are all male, but even I have a hard time discerning Dwarvish genders. I think I'll just refer to them all as "he" for now.

They told me of four other Ered Luin Dwarves they knew were coming: Balin (Thorin's main adviser), Dwalin (Balin's brother and Thorin's Captain of the Guard), Fili and Kili. I'll admit I was shocked to hear that Thorin is dragging both of his heirs on the Quest. It seems a bit foolhardy. But Bofur (the chattering hatted one) says trying to separate the princes is like trying to shape a diamond with a mattock. I nodded and assume this translates to "really hard." I did have to ask how they managed to persuade their mother to remain behind. Even I have heard rumors of the formidable Lady Dis, Thorin's sister. I still haven't gotten a straight answer, but overheard a few mutters- something about "horrible" and "so much shouting." I don't think I will probe any farther.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Please do not waste report forms unless something of import has happened.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Shire**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

But Bofur was trying to get me to join in a walking song! I needed an excuse. And if writing a report means that I can answer Bofur's "Oh, please, Mister Wizard, sir! I bet you're a right songbird!" with "I have important matters of Wizardry to attend to, Master Dwarf," then write a report I shall. Singing songs is very un-Wizardly.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Do not use vital I.S.T.A.R.I. field communication as an excuse to avoid talking to commoners. Perhaps you should try not starting conversations with unimportant peoples in the first place.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End**

**Date: Still April 26th, TA 2941**

We have finally reached Bilbo's little smial. It was marvelous- the Dwarves were so eager to get inside (we could all smell the food) they crowded in a mass at the door, so when Bilbo opened it, they all tumbled in. Most amusing.

Bilbo seems a bit overwhelmed. And with only twelve Dwarves so far! Wait until he sees the rest! I wonder how many there will be? I'd meant to be the last, myself, for dramatic effect, you understand. But oh, well. The four Dwarves that arrived before us have already found the pantry. Good lads. Ah, here's Dori with a cup of chamomile. Though, after looking around, I feel I may be in need of something stronger. It's already a press of bodies in here. I don't envy Bilbo for having to host this lot! I try never to be the host, personally. Far too much work. I prefer to attend others' gatherings. More free food and the chance for dramatic entrances.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Are you seriously expecting your humble Hobbit to provide food and lodging for a horde of Dwarves?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Well, I'm sure some of them can camp outside, and I find it's very easy to pick among the Hobbits' gardens- the gates are low. And it's entirely possible Thorin won't be arriving with all the rest of his army. I think it would make a great deal of sense for us to meet them on the way out. They could take rooms in Bree, perhaps.

I'm eating some very good food. Though Bilbo has, surprisingly for a Hobbit host, prepared really very little. But we've managed a good rifle through the pantry and have settled ourselves quite nicely. Dori managed to find a delightful vintage of red wine; he has an impressive palate for a Dwarf.

I found a moment to chat with Balin and Dwalin. Well, perhaps "chat" is too generous a word for Dwalin. While his elder brother is a polite fellow, Dwalin (all bald and covered in tattoos and muscles and scowl) tended to just glare at me, looking very grumpy that he had to look up to do so. Perhaps it is just his neutral expression. I do think I saw the hint of a grin when Bilbo placed the biscuits on the table. Note to self: explore biscuits as a possible source of bribery/distraction in regards to one Dwalin, son of Fundin. Just in case.

Fili and Kili are shockingly young. Fili is blond, while Kili is darker. Or perhaps it's the other way around. I'm already getting them confused. They smile a lot, but I'm not sure they're the brightest sorts. Bilbo, while bustling past with another plate of pasties, hissed "The brown-haired one called me Mr. Boggins!" He looked very offended. Of course, I might have more sympathy if I didn't know for a fact that he constantly calls the Proudfeet clan "Proudfoots." It is something he picked up from Belladonna.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End's wine closet, looking for more of that red**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

I am slowly realizing that the twelve here are absolutely all of the Ered Luin Dwarves that Thorin has convinced to join the Quest.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End's wine closet, seriously I need more wine for this**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Dain better have provided a lot.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

It isn't too late to call off this adventure of yours, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End's dining room**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Oh, splendid! The Dwarves have decided to start up a little song! As long as I'm not expected to participate, I'm perfectly happy to sit in my corner and nod along as dishes and silverware go whizzing about. Do the Dwarves practice this? They have excellent hand-eye coordination. Bilbo doesn't seem happy, but he's looked stressed this entire party. At least he has excellent taste in wines.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End**

**Date: Yes, still April 26th, TA 2941**

Thorin got lost and so got to be the one who showed up at last. Very majestic. Shall have to learn some of his tricks.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

And your overly detailed reports about some Hobbit party are still more interesting than Radagast's. Yesterday he sent me twelve pages about some ferret's molting problem, or some other nonsense. There was an attached envelope of the shed fur.

* * *

**Author's Note: The views and opinions expressed by Agents Gandalf the Grey and Saruman the White are those of the individual agents and do not necessarily reflect those of the author, who happens to think the dwarves are pretty darn cool. Even if I'm far too lazy to type all the dwarves' names properly (meaning their accents).**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's entryway**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

That entrance of Thorin's was like nothing I have ever seen. We had just been laughing (well, my Hobbit was doing what I believe he considered a glare), but then three solid knocks on the door cut through our mirth, changing the entire atmosphere into one of utter seriousness. I raised my head in the sudden silence and spoke two words, heavy with meaning.

"He's here."

The door opened and there, in the night, stood Thorin Oakenshield, King In Exile. Descendant of Durin, eldest of the seven Dwarf fathers. Leader of the Quest to retake Erebor. While we all stared, clustered in Bilbo's entryway, he gave me the polite nod of one important personage to another. "Gandalf," he said, and stepped inside.

It was a marvelous first impression. If only he'd stopped there.

"I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way, twice. I wouldn't have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door."

Not everyone can have my gift for dramatic entrances, I suppose.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

If only we all had your effortless knack for enigmatic statements and appearances, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's entryway**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

You flatter me, my dear Saruman. It's really very simple! Just practice a few hours every day with a little hand-mirror. I like to keep mine in my hat, next to my emergency stash of Pipe-weed.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's entryway. Rather awkward.**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Well. Thorin has continued his less-than-stellar impression. I don't think he quite realizes that we still need to convince Bilbo that he ought to go on an adventure. After I- quite smoothly- overrode Bilbo's protests ("Mark? There's no mark on that door! It was painted a week ago!") I introduced the king and the burglar. After which Thorin Oakenhead proceeded to interrogate _my_ pick for the Company. Now, I understand why he might be a little leery of taking on a Companion who isn't exactly a trained warrior, but is he truly doubting _me_? Bilbo Baggins is full of potential! He's going to be an Adventurer anyone would be proud to travel with, I can tell! He-

"Well, I have some skill at Conkers, if you must know, but I fail to see why that's relevant."

Oh, dear me.

Thorin cemented what I can already see is going to be a terrible relationship with, "Thought as much. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar," and then stomping off to the dining room, where I believe a bowl of stew had been kept warm. I could only shrug at Bilbo, who looked rather as though he were contemplating the possible use of doilies as murder weapons.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

It might be considered wise, Gandalf, to stop this fool's quest before it ends in inevitable failure. If the leader of the company and your burglar cannot work together, I must regrettably inform you that I am ordering the end of this operation.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's dining room. Dwalin's hoarding the biscuits.**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Thorin Oakenshield had barely begun digging into his supper when I made my way back to the dining room. Bilbo chose to hover murderously somewhere behind Thorin, worrying his suspenders.

You'll be sad to hear, Saruman, that my fears were correct: although envoys from all seven kingdoms of the Dwarves attended Thorin's meeting, there will be no other members of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. Even Dain, his cousin and lord of the Iron Hills, refuses to give aid. What a fool! Thank goodness he isn't king of Durin's folk, eh? Luckily (and due to a Wizardly enigmatic expression) I managed to nod seriously and I don't think anyone thought I was ever under the impression more were coming.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's dining room**

**Date: Still April 26th, TA 2941**

Luckily, Bilbo managed to break the tension by asking, "You're going on a quest?" I spread out my map- Dwalin very helpfully pulled the jar of biscuits out of my way and closer to himself.

Gloin proudly announced that, "Oin has read the portents, and the portents say it is time." Well, no, a _Wizard_ told you it was time.

But before I could set things straight, Oin (who I could have sworn should have had trouble with such a relatively quiet statement) told us of the way ravens had been winging their way back to the mountain. Apparently, it was foretold that "when the birds of old retun to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." I must admit I don't recall this particular prophecy. It is probably one of those I spread myself, though. It sounds rather like me: grand, mysterious, and gratifyingly vague on the details.

"What _beast_?" asked Bilbo. The word seemed to shock him out of grumpily trying to stare the back of Thorin's head into spontaneous combustion.

Bofur, the chatty one with the hat, decided to be helpful.

"Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather, teeth like razors, claws like meathooks, extremely fond of precious metals."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's dining room**

**Date: It hasn't changed.**

Apparently that truly accurate and entirely unnecessary description was some kind of challenge for mortals, because Bilbo huffed, "Yes, I know what a dragon is," and then little Ori jumped up from his seat.

" I'm not afraid! I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of the Dwarvish iron right up his jacksy!" Most of us just stared, I'll admit. Ori was positively quivering with well-intentioned bravado. I have no idea where that came from. He'd been so nice and quiet up till then! His brothers barely blinked, though. Nori, the thief with the star-shaped hair, just sat there snickering, while their older brother hissed "Sit down!" and pulled Ori back to his chair with a thump.

I think we all decided to ignore the outburst. Balin, Thorin's adviser and the oldest of the Company, cleared his throat. (I called him "Young Balin" once, and the look on his face! It only lasted a split second, though, before he put on a diplomatically neutral expression. I have decided to call him that at every possible opportunity. But I digress.)

Balin expressed hesitance that only thirteen Dwarves (why does no one ever count my Hobbit?) could complete the Quest. Of course, he was perfectly right, but that didn't stop everyone from furiously denying it. Dwarves: brave and stubborn to the point of stupidity.

I was feeling pleasantly superior until Thorin's dark-haired nephew said, "We have a wizard in our Company! Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!"

Well. That isn't… _exactly_ true.

While I stalled and had just thought of a brilliant escape plan, Thorin interrupted with a very nice speech. I don't really remember. I wasn't listening.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bag End. Who hangs a chandelier this low?**

**Date: The never-ending April 26th, TA 2941**

Yet again, though, Young Balin had to rain on the parade. "You forget," he said, "The front door is sealed. There is no way into the mountain." Ah! Now was the time to regain my status in this group. I had been holding onto the key long enough, anyway. Now was as dramatic a time as any.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true."

Even Thorin looked awed when he saw the key in my hand. Good.

I formally handed him the key. Of course, if it wasn't Thorin, one of his nephews _would_ ruin the moment.

"If there is a key," said the blond one, "there must be a door!"

Well done. The Lady Dis must be so proud.

I tried to salvage the situation by gesturing grandly at the map. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls."

The brunet one piped up. "There's another way in!"

Maybe Lady Dis didn't have to be persuaded to let her sons join the dangers of a Quest. Maybe she kicked them out herself.

When I first met the Dwarves on the road, some of them told me that Oin delivered his nephew, Gloin's much beloved Gimli. Then the Dwarf healer promptly dropped the babe on his head. I must ask if Oin also delivered the King's nephews. It would certainly explain some things.

"If we can find it," I said. "Dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage. But, if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."

Ori made the connection first. Perhaps he will be a good scholar for the journey. I hope so; I do enjoy a good record of my more famous missions.

"That's why we need a burglar," he said.

Bilbo nodded. "And a good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine."

Gloin focused in on my little Hobbit from across the table. "And are you?"

"Am I what?" asked Bilbo. Oh dear.

Oin bellowed, "He said he's an expert!" I could swear I saw him grin. I am beginning to doubt the truth of his hearing difficulties.

Bilbo sputtered. "Me? No, no, no! I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

Must everyone doubt my decisions? Even my Hobbit, now! Bilbo nodded vigorously when the brothers Balin and Dwalin said he was in no way suited for the Quest. Then the entire sorry lot of Dwarves fell to arguing. I let the shouting grow until I could bear it no more.

Time for a show of some serious Wizard power.

I rose from my seat, straightening to my full height, instead of the slouch I adopt when I find it useful to pass myself off as a harmless old Man. I called up an aura of darkness and cloaked myself in shadows. To top it all off, I imbued my voice with a nice bit of my power as a Maia, a spirit of Illuvatar and chosen by the Valar to oversee the course of all Middle-earth.

"Enough!" I roared. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!"

Ringing silence. Excellent.

I let the darkness recede and slumped back into my more usual posture. The entire Company remained frozen. This old fellow still has it.

I gave a little speech, all about how Hobbits are entirely useful in matters of stealth, and I know that Bilbo Baggins has "a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself." No questions about my choice for burglar.

Thorin sighed majestically. I think he was eager to end the long conversation. He had finished his bowl of stew a while ago, and looked tired. It must be exhausting, wandering around as simple a place as the Shire, lost. Twice.

"Very well," he said, "We'll do it your way." Obviously. "Give him the contract."

While Bilbo muttered over legal language, Thorin leaned towards me to speak to me in relative privacy. "I cannot guarantee his safety."

"Understood," I said.

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate."

"Agreed." Not that I really have much fear for Bilbo. It was true, what I said. Hobbits are excellent at sneaking about. And if he doesn't come back to his smial, well, I'm sure he'll be grateful that I pushed him out of his comfort zone!

Just then, Thorin and I realized that Bofur was chattering away.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then _poof_!" Bilbo looked green. Bofur continued heedlessly. "You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

"Nope," said Bilbo.

And crumpled to the floor in a faint.

"You're very helpful, Bofur," I said.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

_Gandalf._

* * *

**Author's Note: In which Thorin and Bilbo meet, and are not exactly best friends at first sight.**

**Author's Other Note: Hahaha this entire fic was supposed to be five chapters for the entire first movie hahaha. Ha.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A sitting room**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

After my Hobbit had his little fainting spell, there was a bit of muttering. Oin peered at him and then grunted.

"No harm done. Just shock. Since _some people_" (here he glared at Bofur) "can't keep from gabbing." Bofur, who looked very contrite, came running and tugged Bilbo into an armchair. Then the Dwarves, clearly assuming Bilbo was a lost cause, returned to the dinner table and their drinks.

I sighed. But Dwarves always do expect the worst. I've no idea why. This Wizard, however, is not so ready to succumb to pessimism.

I saw that one of the Dwarves had tea, rather than ale or mead. "Ah, Dori!" I said. "Excellent!" Dori looked up at me, then down at his mug.

"Oh! Mister Gandalf. Would you like another cup of chamomile? This one's freshly brewed. It would be no trouble at all to set another to steep for yourself."

"Thank you ever so," I said. "The fresh one will do nicely."

"Well," he said. "I'm sure when a Wizard needs his tea, he needs his tea."

I took the mug. "Now that you mention it, I _would_ like my own cup. Make one for me when you're in the kitchen, would you? I should get this to Bilbo."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Please do not submit reports until you are finished antagonizing your traveling companions and tending to Hobbits, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A sitting room**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Bilbo woke up soon enough and sat, clutching his mug as though he intended to never leave his armchair again.

"I'll be all right," he said. "Just let me sit quietly for a moment."

Ridiculous creature. I scoffed. "You've been sitting quietly for far too long." I tried to remind him of what an adventurous young lad he'd been only a few decades ago, but he merely shook his head.

"I can't just go running off into the blue! I am a Baggins, of Bag End."

I stared. What would his mother have said, if she'd heard that nonsense! "You are also a Took. Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle, Bullroarer Took, was so large he could ride a real horse?" (I remember Bullroarer fondly. Not too bright, but always ready for a scrape.) Bilbo muttered something. I wasn't listening. "Well, he could! In the Battle of Green Fields, he charged the goblin ranks! He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin King's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won, and the game of golf invented at the same time."

Bilbo goggled. Good.

"I do believe you made that up," he said.

No trust anymore! Honestly, Saruman, when did people grow so cynical?

I waffled. "Well, all good stories deserve embellishment. You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back!"

Bilbo grew suddenly serious. "Can you promise that I will come back?"

I thought about remarking that he hadn't added 'if I go' to that question, but then decided it wasn't the opportune time. Instead I adopted an intense expression. "No. And if you do, you will not be the same."

Bilbo stared at me.

"That's what I thought," he sighed. "Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong Hobbit."

Well. Perhaps I should have made a joke, instead.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Sitting room**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941 (Unless it's midnight. It feels like midnight.)**

And it had been such a good evening up until then! I turned to look at the Dwarves. Young Balin and Thorin were speaking. Then Thorin pulled away, looking determined.

I decided it was a prime moment for a bit of eavesdropping.

Thorin spoke. "I will take each and every one of these Dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they came. Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask no more than that."

Well, of course, he _had_ asked for more. And been flatly denied. But I imagine he was going for inspirational.

I saw Bofur sniffle. Bombur gave him a comforting pat.

Balin, obviously, wanted one more go at ending this before it could truly begin.

"You don't have to do this. You have a choice. You've done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Locaition: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941 (It is not yet midnight)**

I advise you listen to the Dwarf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Dining room at Bag End**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Indeed you are right, Saruman! For when Thorin spoke next, even I found myself nodding along.

Thorin Oakenshield held out the key. "From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me! They dreamt of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me."

Balin gave a low bow, smiling. "Then we are with you, laddie. We will see it done."

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Bilbo's living room**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

Bifur oversaw the clearing of plates and food, and then we all retired to the living room for an after-dinner smoke.

Well, no, now everyone's humming. I do hope I am not expected to join.

Not that I know this melody. Perhaps it is a traditional Dwarvish tune.

It's all very solemn. Ah! Now Thorin is beginning to sing. I am scribbling the lyrics as I hear them.

"_Far over the misty mountains cold_

_To dungeons deep and caverns old_

_We must away ere break of day_

_To find our long-forgotten gold."_

Oh. This is about the fall of Erebor. The others have joined in.

"_The pines were roaring on the height_

_The winds were moaning in the night_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread_

_The trees like torches blazed with light"_

Quite lovely, in a haunting way. Though I do not imagine that having his sleep disturbed by a Dwarf-song will make Bilbo amenable to joining us. Still, I appreciate a nice bit of a capella as much as the next Wizard.

Only bashed my head on the ceiling three times today!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 26th, TA 2941**

You _are_ aware that I detest singing, correct?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The outskirts of Hobbiton**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941 (finally!)**

It is a subdued Company that I ride with this morning. I have heard some murmurs of _"Only thirteen. Unlucky, that,_" until Dwalin glared at all and sundry. Thorin plods on ahead, a brooding lump.

**Agent: Gandalf the Gray**

**Location: A horse**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

It was Bofur, of course, who broke the silence. "I have to say, all, I was sort of hoping that Hobbit fellow would join us. Make for an interesting traveling companion, a Hobbit would!"

"What if he's actually traveling with us right now, only we wouldn't know it, since Mr. Gandalf _did_ say they can creep about as though invisible!" said Ori. The nephews both stared at the young scribe, then exchanged wide-eyed glances before twisting around and peering all about them.

Gloin snorted. "Gentlefolk like that should stay where they are. This is Dwarf business. Leave it to the Dwarves."

The brunet one was craning to look under his pony.

"Dwarves like Dain?" muttered Nori. Not quietly enough, for his older brother Dori whapped him on the shoulder.

"Ow!" yelped Nori. "Gerrof!"

"Do you think Hobbits can become completely invisible?" That was one of the princes.

"Oooh! Maybe that's why they eat so much- they need the energy!" And the other, never far behind.

We all ignored them, except for Bofur, who cocked his head and was obviously trying to imagine how that would work.

Nori finally kicked his pony a few lengths away from his brother. Then, quickly, with Dori still glaring and Ori furiously ignoring his brothers in favor of giggling at the nephews, he changed the subject. The thief started spinning a knife idly between his fingers. " 'Course... Do we all really think the Burglar isn't coming?"

"Well, he sounded certain. I wouldn't think he changed his mind about the contract, do you?" said one of the nephews. The blond one. I must learn to tell them apart. "What happened to the contract, Balin? Did you pack it up?"

Young Balin, who had been riding somewhat ahead, closer to Thorin and Dwalin, turned to face the back of the group. "I didn't, no. I had hoped..."

Nori jumped in. "So can I put you down for summat in the Hobbit's favor?"

The old adviser paused for a beat, then smiled. "Odds?"

"Ohhhh, ten against, I think."

"Fair enough. Two on the Hobbit burglar." He flicked a coin over- Nori caught it and squirreled it away under his jerkin.

"Any others?" said the thief. "I'm putting in six that he'll never show, myself. But anyone else wants to make a foolish bet, I won't stop you!"

There was a quick flurry of money exchanging hands. I dug in my pouch and decided to add my own bit. For Bilbo, of course.

Nori, grinning, called up to the front. "Guard captain? Y'majesty? Can I put you down for a copper piece?"

Thorin kept resolutely facing forwards, but under his fur coat, his shoulders crept skyward. Dwalin whirled around and glared at us all. (Even me!)

"Quiet, Thief. You mock serious matters."

Nori grumbled, but didn't retort. Dwalin nodded and turned back.

There was a moment of silence, with most of the Dwarves looking guilty. Then, still not turning from staring at the road ahead, Thoin growled "The Hobbit is not with us, as Dain is not. Leave him to his garden and his kitchen. We will continue, as we always do. But do not think on the Hobbit with false hope."

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The same horse**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

I do believe I hear something.  
"Waaaaaait!"

* * *

**Author's Note: ****Watch Gandalf take all the credit (for the good things)**.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

**I can't believe I haven't done this until now- endless thanks and praise to my amazing beta, Ranubis****. He's incredibly patient with me, and hasn't even stooped to murder (yet) every time he gets off work to find eight million texts of meta and "oh no this chapter is horrible why."**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Still on a horse**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

"Wait! Wait!"

I _knew_ it. My Hobbit is a born Adventurer. He just needed me to remind him of that.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: I'm going to name my horse Margaret.**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

There was some incredulous staring, but we've all reined to a stop to allow our Hobbit (our Burlgar!) to catch up. The mood is much improved! I believe we're all pleased to see that Bilbo changed his mind, thanks to my wise council the night before.

Well, perhaps the princes look a bit disappointed that Bilbo cannot, in fact, render himself invisible.

Ah! Bilbo has finally reached us. I must say, he's rather overdressed for a journey of our length, and I highly doubt he's properly packed. Well. He can learn on the way! I've always found it's best to learn new things as one is doing them, rather than prepare and plan to excess. Often, if you stride through as though you know what it is you are doing, others tend to believe you. And it has worked out well for me over the years!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

This explains many things, Gandalf.

Although I hesitate to criticize the universality of your personal philosophy, do you think it is appropriate to expect your, shall I say, "system" to apply to a Hobbit as well as to one of the Maiar?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret is a much more dignified name than Minty.**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

I'll have to get back to you in a moment.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret the horse**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Bilbo is currently hunched over, wheezing.

I'm sure he'll be fine.

He just needs to catch his breath.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

There! His face is barely red at all now! He's shoved the contract at Balin.

"I signed it!"

**What a capital fellow.**

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

How wonderful that your gaggle of Dwarves have acquired such an excellent addition to their Company.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

What does one call a group of Dwarves? A flock? A pod?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

A herd? Ooh! A rumble!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Do not become sidetracked, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Perhaps an avalanche. Lots of rocks falling, you know?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Enough, Gandalf. You should not have introduced the topic.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

But I could have sworn you asked the question first.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

I assure you that, as usual, the waste of time and report forms was initiated by yourself. I have the series of reports on my desk in front of me.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Well, who am I to argue with the head of our Order?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Precisely.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

But as I was saying! Bilbo finally turned a more comfortable color in the time it took Young Balin to examine the newly signed contract. Balin nodded, tucked away the contract and his pocket-glass, and smiled at Bilbo.

"Everything appears to be in order," he said. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

The Dwarves (excepting Thorin) let out a cheer.

"Give him a pony," grunted the esteemed leader of the Company.

Bilbo's complexion, which had just faded from red to a sort of healthy pink, shot right on through to ghostly white.

"No, no, no!" he stammered. "That won't be necessary, thank you, but I-I'm sure I can keep up on foot. I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know. I even got as far as Frogmorton once-"

Fili and Kili rode up, one to either side, and without a word, swooped down and deposited him on a pony. They looked very pleased with themselves and rode on, giggling.

I am fairly certain that princes, even exiled ones, should not giggle.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Bilbo looks entirely uncomfortable on his pony. The Dwarves, however, were happy to ignore him and turn to the important things in life.

Oin, the white-haired healer with the ear-trumpet, looked triumphant. "Come on, Nori. Pay up. Go on!"

Nori tossed a sack of money to Oin.

Soon enough, money-bags were flying all about the place.

Bilbo stared. "What's that about?"

"Oh," I said. "They took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up. Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"What did you think?"

I was a bit distracted because Dori was hissing urgently at his brother, fiercely poking him in the side. All I caught was "…sure you gave back _all_ the coins?"

"Hmmm," I said, to buy time. I had to turn away, though, and miss the end of that little episode, when my own winnings came flying at my face. I managed to catch it and tuck it away in my bag. "My dear fellow. I never doubted you for a second."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

I am pleased to hear you have come into new wealth. I assume that this means you will no longer need to resort of official business accounts to purchase Pipe-weed and ales for strangers.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Scant yards from where we started back up again.**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

I am trying to ignore Bilo's rather pitiful sneezing (something about horse hair?) in favor of (carefully) watching the three 'Urs. They are having a lively conversation entirely in Iglishmek, the Dwarvish sign language. Of course, it is just as secret as their spoken language of Khuzdul, and entirely forbidden to outsiders. Which is why I am currently watching as much as I can. As Bifur, cousin to Bombur and Bofur, is unable to speak Westron, his conversations are relegated to ancient Khuzdul and Iglishmek. I expect they would be heartily displeased if they knew how much I was learning! So far, I believe I have seen the signs for 'want a beer' and 'infant Hobbit.'

Bilbo is still sneezing, and now he is digging into his waistcoat pocket for something.

Now he has stopped, and looks horrified.

Is he dying?

"No! No! Wait! Wait, stop! Stop! We have to turn around!"

We've all come to a sudden stop of surprised horses, Dwarves demanding answers, and one distraught Hobbit.

Sadly, the Iglishmek conversation has stopped.

I've turned to Bilbo.

"What on earth is the matter?"

"I forgot my handkerchief."

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: On the path**

**Date: I am afraid the 27th is going to be as long as the 26th.**

You will be happy to learn that the crisis was averted when Bofur tore a bit of his coat-lining (Dori looked scandalized) and tossed it at Bilbo.

Bofur grinned. "Here! Use this!" There was a great deal of laughter and then we began moving once again.

I loomed over Bilbo until he stopped looking at his new "handkerchief" in well-bred horror. "You'll have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our Journey's end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire, but home is now behind you; the world is ahead."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: April 27th, TA 2941**

Truly an inspiring speech.

* * *

**Author's Note: Bilbo says a group of Dwarves is called "an unwashed mass."**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A field**

**Date: May 1st, TA 2941**

Thorin keeps holding the map upside down.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: In camp**

**Date: Late May, I think**

We have only just stopped to make evening camp. I have placed myself quite comfortably against a tree, smoking my pipe and looking out over the Company. Everyone (except myself, of course) is engaged in all the little activities of setting up bedding and preparing the evening meal. It is hard to believe, but we have already been traveling together for a month! All of the Dwarves knew each other to some extent, from virtue of living in the Blue Mountains settlement. But there are friendships and small groups growing. It is most interesting to watch! I must encourage this; we have not yet faced danger exceeding inclement weather and biting insects. Thorin and his fellows must become a Company in more than name if they are to survive this Quest.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: May 30th, TA 2941**

Fascinating.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret, my dignified horse**

**Date: Early June?**

Though I am worried about my Hobbit's place in the group. And, to be honest (as I always strive to be), his attitude is not entirely helpful! He finally stopped his endless complaining ("But this isn't a real handkerchief! What do you mean, Dwarves eat only three times a day? This is absolutely uncivilized.") after the first week, but after that he slid into what I can only describe as a sulk. However, Hobbits are a surviving folk, and eventually his Tookishness had to make an appearance. Now he _is_ trying, I believe. But even after a month of travel, there is quite a bit to overcome.

The majority of the Dwarves (Thorin) cannot see Bilbo as anything outside of their first impression: a fussy, overly-comfortable, soft creature. Which is… well, true. But I chose him! Does my opinion count for nothing in this Company?

Some of the Dwarves are making their best attempts, especially the younger crowd. The princes view Bilbo as a sort of entertaining oddity, as I understand it. Though I do not believe they will ever be able to overcome their disappointment at the lack of invisibility. Still, they are eager to ride next to him and ask all sorts of questions. That they never really wait for an answer is beside the point. Ori also asks questions, and most of them are better than "Why do your ears look like an elf's?" or "Hey! You're sneaky! Will you sneak up behind Mister Dwalin for us? It'll be hilarious!"

Bilbo gets along rather well with Bombur, the Company cook, and Dori, the oldest of the 'Ri brothers. Bombur and my Hobbit enjoy talking about Bombur's numerous children, as well as recipes. Bilbo often assists at the cook-fires when we camp. He very politely ignored it when Dwalin muttered that was all the use the Hobbit would be on the Quest. Bilbo tried to win him over with an extra helping of vegetables in that evening's stew, but for some reason it didn't help. Dori, of course, was entirely grateful that someone else knows the difference between a cross stitch and a running stitch. And, he said, has an appreciation for hygiene.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 2nd, TA 2941**

I _am _glad you are so concerned with the good opinion of Dwarves, Gandalf.

Did those with "an appreciation for hygiene" include yourself?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Some river of some sort**

**Date: June 4th, TA 2941**

I find Pipe-weed covers most odors, actually!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 5th, TA 2941**

Of course you do.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: June 7th, TA 2941**

The problem is that, still, Bilbo has not been entirely accepted among the Company. They are Dwarves, of course. An exceptionally secretive and unfriendly lot! But this cannot continue for the entirety of the journey. Though I don't know what it will take for them to stop viewing him as an outsider.

And it doesn't help that yesterday, while Balin and Thorin were in a huddle up ahead, having a quiet conversation (hissing argument) over which direction to take, Bilbo decided it might be a good idea to sidle up and "help."

"Excuse me," he said. "But I _am_ rather skilled at maps. I have quite the collection back home in the Shire! If we are lost, maybe I could be some assistance?"

Thorin just glared at him until he went away.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: The same day**

On second thought, that might not have been the best time to approach Oakenshield and remind him that we are still unable to read his grandfather's map.

"I _do_ have an old friend who may be able to help us…"

Thorin grunted. "And why does that not surprise me."

"A certain Lord Elrond."

Balin stiffened, gave Thorin a sidelong look, then said, "I think I have heard that name before."

Thorin turned to his advisor, completely ignoring (!) me. "What have you heard of him, Balin?"

"Well. I have never personally met him, but I understand the Lord Elrond is a warrior of much renown. He resides not far from here, if I am not wrong." Ever the diplomat, our young Balin.

I nodded wisely. "This is true. You could reach the Valley of Imladris is only a month's journey from here, perhaps less."

Thorin looked at me. "Imladris."

"Well, in Westron it is called Rivendell."

"You mean to seek counsel from the _Elves._"

"Now Thorin, your unreasonable dislike of all Elvenkind-"

At that, the Exiled King glared with enough fury to make even _me_ stop talking. Which I did. A wise Wizard knows when to pick his battles. Besides, we have some weeks to go in which I am sure I can talk Thorin around.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 7th, TA 2941**

Gandalf. We are to have a meeting of the White Council on Midsummer's. I expect you to be there.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Margaret, my dignified horse**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Of course! I would never dream of missing a meeting!

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Some rocky outcropping**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Another day's journey done! Most everyone is asleep. Gloin, younger brother to the Company healer and endlessly proud father, turned in right after building this evening's fire. Bilbo was pleased; he got to eat Gloin's share of dinner, as well as his own.

Though I do not think that goodwill will last the night, as I can see Bilbo is still awake, due to Gloin. The Dwarf has a terribly loud snore. And he is inhaling insects each time he does so. Bilbo looks disgusted. A Dwarf would have given in by now and thrown something at Gloin's head in hopes of peace. Perhaps a rock. Dwarves have tremendously thick skulls.

But Bilbo, ever a Hobbit, has decided to go for a walk, instead. He's snuck over to his pony, Myrtle. Ah! He has a smuggled apple. Well, the others (Thorin) wouldn't be so happy at this waste of provisions, but I am only smiling. It is a very good smile, with elements of amusement and pride, wrapped up with age-old wisdom. It is another of my practiced expressions. I am only pleased that Bilbo has gotten over his distaste for riding.

He's whispering to Myrtle while she eats the apple. It is charming. A shame Fili and Kili aren't watching.

Which they should be, as this is their shift to take watch. Instead, they're facing each other, probably telling ridiculous jokes to each other. Perhaps planning on the best way to steal an old man's Pipe-weed again. The last time I caught the brunet one with his hand halfway in my weed pouch I called upon a cloud of darkness. Then I threatened to turn him into a frog. I am not actually sure if I can do this, but if the youngsters try anything I cannot be held accountable for my actions.

Perhaps I could tell their uncle that they completely missed the Hobbit get up in the middle of the night, walk across camp, and feed a smuggled apple to his pony. That would be an excellent revenge.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Truly, a fearsome vengeance for one of the I.S.T.A.R.I.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

What was that noise?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

I do not know, Gandalf. I'm in Isengard.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Ah, but did you appreciate my dramatic moment?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Well, you should have seen the Hobbit jump! Most amusing.

He ran over to the princes.

"What was that?"

Thorin's nephews didn't even glance at each other before they both adopted frightened expressions. The brunet one leaned in and spoke solemnly.

"Orcs."

Bilbo whimpered.

Now, of course I, a well-seasoned traveler, know that sound to be nothing but a wolf. But Bilbo's face was a picture! I doubt Mr. Baggins has ever seen an orc in his life. I am perfectly willing to let this little prank of the brothers' continue a bit longer. We all appreciate a bit of harmless fun!

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

"Throat-cutters." That's the blond one. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lowlands are crawling with them."

The other one's picked up, right on cue. "They strike in the wee small hours, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet. No screams, just lots of blood."

And that's as long as they can keep a straight face. They've just looked at each other and burst into peals of laughter. I am allowing myself one dignified chuckle. Most amusing, indeed!

"You think that's funny?"

Bother.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Camp**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

Thorin must have woken up at the laughter. He stomped over, looking positively murderous. "You think that's funny? You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

His nephews positively wilted. Bilbo didn't look much relieved to learn that they had been joking; perhaps because he was suddenly being treated to an angry Thorin scarce feet away.

I must admit I felt some approval, watching Thorin lecture his nephews. What had they been thinking, mocking my poor Hobbit? For shame.

The brunet one (Fili?) tried to provide some defense.

"We didn't mean anything by it."

Thorin was not appeased. "No, you didn't. You know nothing of the world."

At any other time, I believe the boys would have bristled at an insinuation that they weren't well-traveled adults. Instead, they just gave ridiculously big, sad eyes. Which Thorin completely ignored to stalk over to the edge of the cliff and pose.

Not a bad pose, to be fair. Sort of regal, with hints of a tortured past.

The Dwarves that hadn't been woken by the princes' laughter were awake by now, after Thorin's lecture. Young Balin walked over.

"Don't mind him, laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs. After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first."

Then he went into a very long-winded explanation of Thorin's backstory. The princes and Bilbo were enthralled through the entire tale. I didn't really listen. Something about an Azog and lots of fighting. Not bad, as tragic histories go.

Thorin posed throughout the entirety. He turned back to look majestically at the assembled Company right as Balin finished. Perhaps they rehearsed it.

Bilbo, of course, had a question.

"But the pale orc?" (The Azog one, I think. Or perhaps that was the oak tree. There was an oak tree involved in some way.) "What happened to him?"

Thorin sneered. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 10th, TA 2941**

Of course he did.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you, Ranubis! The King of all fanfiction, the King of proper tone, the Lord of punctuation, my thanks to you alone.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A forest. A wet forest.**

**Date: It's raining.**

We are riding single-file on an old path. I feel rather as though I am among a line of ducklings. Ducklings would be happier to be out in all this wet, of course. Though I have my Wizard hat and the others have hoods, still we are soaked and cold. And in a few hours we will bed down in the mud. Still, Bilbo looks like a sort of drowned chipmunk, so there is some entertainment for myself. And, also, the Dwarves, who are very vain for such a craggy-faced people, keep sighting gustily over soaked hair and beards. Except the brunet prince, of course. He has been tilting his head up into the rain, trying to catch raindrops in his mouth and shaking his wet hair like a pony. I am not even sure that one owns a comb.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Same wet forest**

**Date: Still raining.**

"Here, Mister Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?"

That was Dori, hunched over and as wet as the rest of us, sadly poking at his careful braids, now ruined. I rolled my eyes.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." He looked upset to know I apparently had no control over the very heavens. "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard." Now, if someone needs a nice flame or a pinch of wise counsel or even a few fireworks, that I can do.

**Agent: Saurman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 10th, TA 2941**

I.S.T.A.R.I. was not founded to ease the small complaints of a Dwarf's bad hair day.

Our powers are great and ought only be called upon in the direst of straits.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rain, Rain**

**Date: Go away**

Exactly! Why, last week I simply could not get my pipe to light- there was such an awful wind, you know. Thank goodness for my ring.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 10th, TA 2941**

That was not the sort of need I had in mind.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Come again**

**Date: Some other day**

Well, while Dori seemed content to simply huff a bit but accept my answer, Bilbo spoke up.

"Are there any?"

"What?" I said.

"Other wizards?" Bilbo clarified. At that, of course, all the Dwarves perked up a bit and leaned in, eager to her about the great I.S.T.A.R.I. And I, obviously, am always happy to share my knowledge with the less wise.

"There are five of us," I said, trying to ignore the fact that I felt rather like a schoolteacher lecturing to fourteen small, rather hairy men. "The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. Then there are the two Blue Wizards." I paused. "You know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?" asked Bilbo.

"Well, that would be Radagast, the Brown." I still have no idea why he chose that color. There is nothing composed or soothing about it, like gray.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June10th, TA 2941**

Or symbolic of illuminating purpose, like white.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: I should have brought an umbrella.**

**Date: Maybe a small one I could strap to my hat.**

Indeed. But the Hobbit was uninsterested in color symbolism, sadly. Hobbits.

"Is he a great Wizard or is he…" Bilbo hesitated, and I looked at him gently, trying to show in my expression that though I am a great Wizard, still do I hear the speech of the common folk, for I was taught by the Vala Nienna herself.

"… more like you?"

Excuse me! Did they not see my awesome display of magics that dinner at Bilbo's? What more do they want from me?

But I was careful not to look offended. I only replied, without any stiffness at all, "I think he's a very great wizard, in his own way." And if his way is a little strange, well… "He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing, too, for always Evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

There. That ought to remind him (and the wildly eavesdropping Dwarves) that there was much danger still to come. And they'd better be properly grateful to be escorted by a Wizard, by the Valar!

But of course, I made sure to tell them that you are the greatest of our order.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 15th, TA 2941**

Thank you, Gandalf. With two of our number gone for millennia, Radagast busy eating strange mushrooms and mumbling to animals, and yourself, I am quite honored to be named the best of stiff competition.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Fields?**

**Date: June 17th, TA 2941**

Well, even if it is only we two, I believe we present a suitable show of great power and dignity, eh, old friend?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Of course.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The evening's camp**

**Date: June something**

Still, despite their grumbling, I think I could grow fond of this Company.

**Agent: Gandlaf the Grey**

**Location: A ways away from the camp**

**Date: I don't even care**

Thorin Oakenshield, humph! Thorin _Stubbornshield_, more like! Thorin Not-King-Under-the-Mountain-Just-Yet-Bucko! Thorin I-Always-Know-Best!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

What is it this time.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: I am contemplating the stubbornness of Dwarves.**

**Date: Far away from said Dwarves.**

We had just begun setting up camp for the night- Fili and Kili were sent to watch the ponies, Gloin began making the fire, Nori glared suspiciously at any possible hiding spots for assasins or thieves- when I moved to offer Thorin some advice.

I looked out at the abandonded ruins of a farmhouse that we were using as some shelter from the wind. "A farmer and his family used to live here," I mused, amidst the gruff orders and sounds of unpacking.

When no one listened to my ominous statement, I turned to Thorin to speak directly. Dwarves are terrible at hints.

"I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley."

I have been dropping hints (less and less subtle as the months went on) that we ought to go to Imladris. And still Thorin refuses. All because of some petty vendetta against the king of Mirkwood. How that led to a hatred of the entire Elven race I have no idea.

"I have told you already, I will not go near that place," said Thorin.

I sighed. "Why not? The elves could help us. We could get food, rest, advice."

"I do not need their advice."

Yes. Yes you do. I tried again. "We have a map that we cannot read. Lord Elrond could help us."

But Thorin only looked more stubborn, if that is possible. "Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what _help_ came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the Elves looked on and did _nothing_. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather and betrayed my father."

"You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold on to the past."

He only looked at me. "I did not know that they were yours to give."

It is an argument we have been having over in over, in just about that format, since the first time I mentioned the Lord Elrond. This time, the Dwarf caused me to completely lose my temper, and I marched thunderously away towards the trees, and away from the whole wretched issue. Of course, Bilbo popped up in front of me, completely ruining my momentum, but he just looked at me worriedly, hands wringing the way they do when he feels things are not under control. (It has happened often throughout the duration of this Quest.)

"Everything alright?" Obviously, things were _not _alright, as he could tell from my expression (and behind me, I am sure, Thorin was glowering even more than usual). "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense," I said.

"Who's that?" asked Bilbo, as I swept around him.

I pitched my voice over my shoulder, so the Hobbit (and all the rest) could hear.

"Myself, Mr. Baggins! I've had enough of Dwarves for one day!"

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: I am sitting on a log.**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

In short, I would like to report that Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King of Durin's Folk, is a right fool. He still doesn't want to ask the Lord Elrond for any aid. But I have to go to the White Council. _Galadriel will be there_.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

You are not allowed to miss Council. You have used up your three excused absences this century. And all three were to smoke Pipe-weed with friends down at the pub.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Log**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

I was making connections with potentially influential persons.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

No, Gandalf.

* * *

**Author's Note: It's the first week in February, and I'm still writing 2014.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

**I've said this before, but it bears repeating, you guys. Ranubis is the best.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Well! This is certainly a turn of events!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Yes, Gandalf?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

So! As you know, after an episode of typical Thorin pigheadedness, I marched away from the Company for a moment of solemn reflection.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Yes…

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

But I got bored, and I left my Pipe-weed by my pack, back in camp. So I was practicing my fireworks, as I do.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Stop using the Red Ring of Fire to make fireworks.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Then, suddenly, I heard this awful ruckus! I went to go look, and what do you know! The Company had gotten themselves captured by Trolls. Probably the ones who had destroyed the farmhouse (and almost certainly eaten its former inhabitants).

That's what you get when you drive your Wizard away.

I hadn't the slightest idea how it had happened, but there were three Trolls in a little clearing, sitting around a cookfire and arguing. And tied to a spit, in sacks, were Dwalin, Bofur, Bifur and the 'Ri brothers! I looked a bit to the side, and the rest (including a furiously un-majestic Thorin) were piled on the ground, also in sacks, only their heads poking out.

It certainly isn't a sight one sees every day. I slipped behind a large tree to observe.

The Trolls were arguing about how best to prepare the Dwarves. They were almost drowned out by the Dwarves themselves, who were roaring battle-cries and insults, beards bristling in fury. I don't know exactly how they hoped shouting about the Trolls' mothers and wriggling like particularly hairy slugs was going to do anything, but that's Dwarves for you.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

How are your thirteen Dwarves (and one Hobbit) supposed to face a dragon if they can't defeat three Trolls?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

We have plenty of time yet. I only need to think of a brilliant escape plan. Which is why I am currently hiding behind this rock, watching the proceedings and strategizing.

"Never mind the seasoning! We ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone." One of the Trolls just said that.

Ah! I only have to-

"Wait! You are making a terrible mistake!"

What?

Bilbo has struggled up to his feet, still in the sack, his little white face peeping out from the top.

"Uh, I meant with the, uh, with, uh, with the seasoning."

Bilbo, stop talking. I am trying to devise a rescue.

"What about the seasoning?"

Are the Trolls _conversing _with him now?

"Well, have you smelled them?" Bilbo is shaking, but somehow his voice is still steady. "You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

Oh! I understand now! Bilbo is trying to distract them! Indeed, if he can keep the trolls out in the open, with the first ray of sunrise… We didn't make camp until extremely late, and the sun rises early this time of the year…

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

This is ridiculous.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

The Dwarves are not as quick as I am to realize Bilbo's scheme. They have all started wriggling even more furiously after the sage insult. Now they're yelling at him, of course. I do believe the blond nephew is trying to bite at Bilbo's ankles.

But the Trolls are, _somehow_, still talking to Bilbo. Though the poor lad is extremely flustered, and obviously didn't plan his distraction very well. I had a much better idea, but I am willing to sit back and supervise, for now.

Bilbo is stammering. "Uh. Th- the secret to cooking Dwarf is, um-"

"Yes? Come on."

"It's, uh-"

"Tell us the secret."

"Ye- yes, I'm telling you, the secret is…" An awful pause. Then, "…to skin them first!"

The Dwarves have exploded with another roar of anger.

"Tom, get me the filleting knife."

But the other two aren't quite so convinced.

In fact, after protesting a bit, one of the Trolls has plucked Bombur from the pile and dangled the Dwarf over his mouth, in order to simply eat him alive and raw. Bombur is upside down, his face as red as his hair.

I'm getting a bit sore, crouching behind this rock, but I might as well wait and see what happens next.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I am breathless with anticipation.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Bilbo seems to have recovered his voice. I wonder what he's going to say?

"Not- not that one, he- he's infected!"

I must admit, that was not what I expected.

The Trolls have stilled. "You what?"

Bilbo is saying, nodding his head vigorously, "Yeah, He's got worms in his … tubes."

The Troll holding Bombur has just tossed him back into the pile, but before he can grab another, Bilbo is speaking again.

"In- in fact they all have, they're in- infested with parasites. It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

Cue offended Dwarves.

Oin: "Parasites, did he say parasites?" The deaf old healer sounds heartily insulted.

The brunet prince is simply offended, as if Mr. Boggins has done him some great injustice. "We don't have parasites! _You_ have parasites!"

All of the Dwarves are chiming in, roaring that they certainly don't have parasites, and how could Bilbo think that.

Oh, look! There's a bit of sun just over the horizon! This rock I'm hiding behind is blocking it, though. Do you know, I believe I could just smash it clean in two, and let the morning sunlight hit the Trolls and turn them to stone.

But Bilbo's frantic excuses are simply too entertaining. I'll wait a bit, for a better, more climactic moment.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Remind me to never require a rescue from you.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Bilbo is rolling his eyes so hard I think he's completely forgotten to be afraid. But, just now, I can see Thorin's eyes widen in understanding. About time.

He's reared back (as best he can, in a sack, and oh! how I wish I had paper to sketch this scene) to kick the Dwarves around him. Even Dwarf skin can feel steel-toed boots, and the Dwarves in the pile stared at their King for a second before realization dawned for all.

Oin is shouting "I've got parasites as big as my arm!" and the brunet prince is suddenly yelping "Mine are the biggest parasites! I've got _huge_ parasites!"

The Dwarves on the spit have also caught on. The 'Ri brothers are describing the horrors of being "riddled" with parasites.

Hmmm. The sun is higher, but not… _quite_ right. Bilbo seems to have it all under control, anyway.

"You think I don't know what you're up to? This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

Or not.

Well, I suppose that's my cue.

**Agent: Gandlaf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Clearing**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

You will be happy to know, Saruman, that I saved the day.

When the tension was at a fever pitch, I clambered on top of the rock and raised my staff high, presenting a very impressive figure, I must say. "The dawn will take you all!" I proclaimed, and then brought my staff down with a _crack_ and a burst of light as the entire rock split in half and sunlight streamed into the clearing. The Trolls shrieked in agony and flung their hands up in front of their faces, but it was too late. There was a sudden silence, and the Company stared in awe at the three giant stone statues that now stood where the Trolls had been.

They cheered for me, Saruman. I expect they'll listen to me more now, after I saved them single-handedly from becoming a Troll's supper!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Congratulations.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey, I'm Gandalf. Stealing your loot and your XP.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Clearing**

**Date: June**

Apparently the Dwarvish reaction to near-death is to clamber happily out of sacks, thump each other on the back, and then loudly wonder whether Troll-stone would make a suitable building material. There were a few congratulatory pats for Mr. Baggins, as well. He appears to be stuck between shock at his own audacity, and pride. I am very pleased with his assistance.

Of course, Thorin would be the one to be unaffected by the general merrymaking. He looked his usual serious self. Though I did see his eyes flick over to his nephews. As they were busy trying to climb one of the statues at the time, I believe he deemed them unharmed. Familial duty taken care of, he resumed his favorite hobby: arguing with me.

"Where did you go to, if I may ask?" The words were polite in themselves, but I must say, the growling didn't help.

"To look ahead."

"What brought you back?"

I looked down my nose at him. "Looking behind." Thorin merely stood, stone-faced, obviously expecting me to elaborate.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Clearing**

**Date: Still June**

Hmm. Stone-faced. A stone-faced Dwarf.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Clearing**

**Date: June**

I turned away from the glowering Dwarf to look out over the Company (the blond nephew was trying to give the other one a boost, and Bifur was tapping on a stone knee). "Nasty business," I said, gesturing at the Trolls and the remains of the fire, where the Dwarves had almost met their fate. "Still, they are all in one piece."

"No thanks to your burglar," grumbled Thorin.

"He had the sense to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that."

Thorin had the grace to look slightly less thunderous. We both turned to look at the statues, where Bofur was declaring the stone "not bad for foundation work, or summat of the like."

"They must have come down from the Ettenmoors," I said.

"Since when do mountain trolls venture this far south?" Thorin asked.

"Oh, not for an Age, not since a darker power ruled these lands."

As one, we looked at each other.

"They could not have moved in daylight," I said.

"There must be a cave nearby."

We were in perfect agreement.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Clearing**

**Date: Is it July yet?**

Let that never happen again.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Indeed.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Cave**

**Date: Still June, apparently**

Oh, this is disgusting. I can't believe this. Why is there such a stench? Do Trolls know nothing about cleanliness? Even the Dwarves don't smell this bad.

The Dwarves themselves are walking (stomping) cautiously inside. Little Bilbo is sort of waffling at the threshold, Hobbit nose scrunched up in a deeply judgmental way.

Oh look, there's treasure!

Sure enough, the sight of the Trolls' hoard has got the Dwarves venturing inside more eagerly. Bilbo looks just as reluctant.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Why are you in a Troll cave, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Troll Cave**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

There might be interesting treasures within! You never do know.

Still, I had to caution the Dwarves from being too eager to wade in.

"It's a Troll hoard," I said. "Be careful what you touch."

Bofur hitched his thumbs in his belt and gave the piles of loot a good once-over.

"Seems a shame just to leave it lyin' around. Anyone could take it."

Gloin, with his bankers' heart, looked entirely too pleased with himself. "Agreed," he said. "Nori, get a shovel."

Then we ransacked the Trolls' cave.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Troll Cave**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I wasn't sure where to begin my own treasure-hunt. For, as you know, I am only a simple Maia, with no great longings for the trappings of wealth or power, content to wander through Middle-earth with nothing more than the clothes on my back and a bit of Pipe-weed.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Is that why you are always asking strangers for food, then? What a fascinating discovery.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Troll Cave**

**Date: June still**

Indeed, I had little desire to obtain any treasure of my own, so when I saw that Thorin had uncovered two stunning swords of ancient make, I meandered over. Merely for academical purposes, you understand. They looked to be historical artifacts.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Of course.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Troll Cave**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

"These swords were not made by any Troll," said Thorin.

Well done, Thorin. Clearly, Dwarves are blessed weaponsmiths.

I decided to be more charitable when Thorin handed one of the swords to me. He had had a very traumatic day.

"Nor were they made by any smith among men," I said.

When I drew my sword from its sheath a few inches, the incredible craftsmanship and elegant engravings made it clear what I was looking at. You know I did incredibly well in "Ancient Weapons, Elvish Make" training. And what I was looking at was an obvious example from the course handbook, chapter two, in the "Hidden Cities" subsection.

"These were forged in Gondolin, by the High Elves of the First Age," I said. Really quite impressive. They were created long before you or I ever stepped foot in Middle-earth, Saruman!

And Thorin's face was a picture. Very amusing indeed, watching the Exiled King struggle with the Dwarvish appreciation for metalwork, and his own hatred of Elves. He looked a bit like a child who has put something nasty in their mouth.

I sighed. "You could not wish for a finer blade."

Thorin looked at me suspiciously, but in the end he decided to hold onto it.

I looked up from examining my own sword to see Bofur, Gloin and Nori huddled over a chest of treasure, which they were carefully lowering into a just-dug hole. Dwalin was watching, looking fiercely disapproving, but it wasn't as though he was stopping it. Gloin didn't look ashamed at all. "We're makin' a long-term deposit," he said.

Thorin, obviously still in a foul mood, barked at the Company to move on. I made to walk out of the cave as well. Not, mind you, because Thorin Oakenshield had told me to. I had decided to leave just when he said it.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I do not require a play-by-play of your shopping trip.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Back in the Trolls' clearing**

**Date: June**

But! Before I could leave the cave, I stepped on something. Not bone, thank goodness. It glinted. So I brushed some of the rotten leaves aside, and what do you suppose I found?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

What, Gandalf. Whatever could it be.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Trolls' Clearing**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

It was a dagger! Though, proportionately, more like a miniscule sword. It was adorable. There were even little silver leaves on the hilt. I hurried over to Bilbo, who was sitting on a rock, trying to breathe through his mouth. I handed him the sword.

"Here! This is about your size."

Bilbo blinked. "I can't take this."

Nonsense. "The blade is of Elvish make, which means it will glow blue when orcs or goblins are nearby." This didn't really seem to change his mind, but I thrust the sword at him anyway.

"I have never used a sword in my life!" he protested.

I put on my serious look. "And I hope you never have to. But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one."

Bilbo stared at his new sword. I'm sure he just needs little time to appreciate it. The lad deserves a treat.

Besides, it wasn't my size.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Yes, but have you convinced Thorin to go to Rivendell. You cannot miss the meeting.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Troll Clearing**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Well, no. Not as yet. But I believe that trickery and my legendary cleverness will see that through. Also, there are rumors of Orcs and Warg-Scouts in these parts. I imagine they'd be most obliging and herd us towards the Last Homely House.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

And how do you know that.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Troll Clearing**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Oh, I know people.

* * *

**Author's Note: I actually have my own little Sting (thanks, Ranubis!) As I've never come across any orcs or goblins, I can't say that it glows blue, but I use it as a really wonderful letter-opener.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Troll Clearing**

**Date: June**

The celebratory atmosphere (it isn't everyday one defeats Trolls and finds treasure in a cave!) vanished. An ominous rustling came from the woods. Well. No rest for the Wise.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

That is not how that phrase goes.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Troll Clearing**

**Date: Still June**

Yes, but you and I certainly aren't _wicked_! We are on the side of Good!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Of course.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Into the Woods**

**Date: June**

The entire Company stiffened and glared at the forest. Well, Bilbo and Ori, the young scribe, sort of gulped.

Thorin barked "Something's coming!" Thank you, Thorin.

Bilbo glanced at me, positively shaking. "Gandalf…"

I patted my nice new sword. "Stay together! Hurry now. Arm yourselves." It was as good a time to test my new find as any, eh?

And we all ran out of the clearing and back into the woods, ready to face the danger ahead.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: It has been far too long, old friend!**

Well! Radagast just showed up! It is indeed good to see him. When he came bursting out of the woods in that rabbit sleigh the Dwarves all let out relieved sighs and relaxed in a rattle of weaponry. They'd all thought the mystery noise was some fierce enemy! Imagine- jumping and thinking the worst of mystery noises! Dwarves, I tell you. Of course, perhaps they shouldn't have let down their guards when it was clear the danger they were expecting was "nothing" but an old man. Radagast is one of us, one of the I.S.T.A.R.I.

I am sure he could be very fearsome, if he tried.

Perhaps he should remove the bird, erm, _droppings_ from his face first.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Radagast has a rabbit sleigh?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: Still June**

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!"

Oh, Radagast. Always the eccentric.

I sidled up to him while the Dwarves and my Hobbit stared.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" I asked.

Radagast was shaking. "I was looking for you, Gandalf! Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong."

I put on my Serious Wizard face. "Yes?"

Radagast opened his mouth, paused… and shut it with a snap. He tried again, but just looked confused.

Perhaps it is the mushrooms.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I expressly forbid Agent Radagast to consume those noxious things. They addle the brain and are not at all suitable for the dignity of our kind.

Like your Pipe-weed, Gandalf. Which, need I remind you, I find a disgusting habit.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

Ah, you just haven't tried a good pipe of Old Toby!

Also, don't be over-quick to pass judgment on Radagast's mushrooms. I myself have tried them a time or two, and I haven't noticed any negative effects! I am as sharp as ever I was! You must admit that Radagast has always been a bit… odd. I wouldn't blame the flora!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Indeed.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June 20th, Third Age**

"Oh, just give me a minute. Um. Oh oh _oh_. I had a thought, and now I've lost it. It was- it was right there- on the tip of my tongue."

I waited patiently. The Company looked almost as confused as Radagast, but one mustn't expect mortals to understand the councils of Maia.

Radagast got a stranger(er) look on his face and then curled his tongue.

"Oh!" he exclaimed happily. "It's not a thought at all! It's a silly old-"

I reached into his mouth.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Why.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

"Stick insect!" crowed Radagast.

Because there was a stick insect in his mouth, my dear Saruman.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

With that out of the way, please tell me if anything of _importance_ occurred during this fortuitous meeting.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods, a bit away from the Dwarves**

**Date: June**

Certainly! We stepped farther into the woods so that the Dwarves and Hobbit couldn't hear.

Radagast had news of the Greenwood (as it is called by no one but Oropher's son- and Radagast, apparently).

"The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf! A darkness has fallen over it! Nothing grows anymore, at least nothing good. The air is foul with decay. But worst are the _webs_."

"Webs? What do you mean?"

Radagast flailed his arms about. "_Spiders_, Gandalf. Giant ones! Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a Wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur."

Now, that couldn't be possible, and I told him so. Perhaps it was the mushrooms.

"Dol Guldur?" I repeated. "But the old fortress is abandoned."

Radagast shook his head vehemently. "No, Gandalf! It is not."

And then he told me a tale of following these giant spiders to the ruins of Dol Guldur, and battling a vicious spirit that felt like a Nazgul. It only got worse from there. He claims he saw a Necromancer.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Preposterous. It is too long hiding away with no one but his animals to talk to. He is, at the very least, exaggerating.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

I tell you, Saruman, he seemed extraordinarily sincere! In fact, at the end of his story, he was quite worked up. I had to give him some of my good Pipe-weed to calm him down.

"Now," I said, when he had taken in a deep lungful of Old Toby and stood, swaying slightly, looking blissful, "A Necromancer. Are you sure?"

He pulled out a package. I opened it. Well. That certainly speaks for the truth of Radagast's claims.

"_That_ is not from the world of the living," he said.

In summation! Radagast says hello, a Necromancer is stirring and a dark cloud is rising over the land. Also he has discovered a Morgul blade.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I still urge you not to make conclusions in haste, Gandalf. You and I both know that Radagast tends towards fables.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

Ah, yes, remember the time he tried to convince us all that you were hiding a palantir in your tower and using it to speak to the forces of darkness? Good times.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Yes.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

Ah! There was a howl just then! Right on schedule. There was a great deal of panic, and then two Warg-Scouts showed up. Thorin and Dwalin killed them, and Thorin looked far too pleased with himself. Bilbo was busy twittering ("Was that a wolf? Are there- are there wolves out there? Orc pack?") so I turned on Thorin and shouted "Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" Thorin bristled.

"No one."

"Who did you tell?" I repeated.

"No one, I swear. What in Durin's name is going on?"

I stared down at the wide-eyed Dwarves. "You are being hunted."

Dwalin growled. "We have to get out of here." Is it some sort of curse of the Dwarves of Durin's line that they must continuously state the obvious?

But Ori yelped "We can't! We have no ponies. They bolted!"

Of course. All that work to rescue them from the Trolls, and now that we need them, where are they? Even my wonderful Margaret. Hmph. I hope she runs into some Wargs.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

No I don't. That was uncalled for. But still, I will find myself a much better horse soon. Maybe white. I think I would look good on a white horse.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

As Agent Gandalf the _Grey_, don't you suppose grey might be better? I hope I don't need to remind you that it is I who am "the White."

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Woods**

**Date: June**

Well. After realizing that we had been abandoned by our steeds, there was a bit of frantic staring, until Radagast suddenly straightened up.

"I'll draw them off," he said.

We looked at him.

"These are Gundabad Wargs! They will outrun you!" I said.

Radagast only grinned. It was rather disturbing. I could almost hear heroic music.

"These are Rhosgobel Rabbits. I'd like to see them try."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Well.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A field or plains or some such thing**

**Date: June 20th**

So Radagast said to tell you that he won't make the meeting, and then hopped on his sleigh and took off.

He raced into the plains, cackling "Come and get me! Ha ha!"

What a brave soul. I won't let his sacrifice go in vain.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The plain**

**Date: June**

I crouched behind a rock, watching until Radagast led the Wargs and Orcs a distance away, and then we all scrambled to the next big rock.

And repeat. We dashed through open plain, from rock to rock, in a straggling line of one mighty Wizard, thirteen Dwarves, and a gasping Hobbit, Radagast whooping in the distance.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Very dignified.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Halfway to the next rock**

**Date: June**

One moment. I'm busy sprinting.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Behind a rock**

**Date: June**

Ori almost ran right out from behind our latest cover, right into the open. He only stopped when Thorin grabbed him by one of his many scarves and bodily _yanked _him back.

I continued to lead everyone in one short dash after another.

Thorin turned to me at one point, sounding suspicious even while running.

"Where are you leading us?"

I pretended I didn't hear him.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Something you never do to me, I am sure.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Another rock**

**Date: June 20th**

The running and hiding worked well for a bit, but one of the Wargs must have scented us (I blame the Dwarves and their aversion to baths), and then we had a merry little chase.

The brunet prince shot the Warg, and looked horribly proud, but though the Dwarves killed the Warg and its Orc as quickly as possible, the sounds of our battle carried, and the others raced towards us.

So there was more running. I've no idea where Radagast ran off to. Some help he was.

I raced to the rock that covered the secret tunnel to Rivendell (why _do_ the Elves of Imladris have a secret tunnel in the middle of nowhere?). But when I turned back, the Company was busy fighting the Wargs and Orcs that surrounded them, and had completely forgotten to watch where I went. Typical.

"We're surrounded!" yelled the blond nephew.

"Where is Gandalf?" cried the other.

Dwalin growled and swung his twin axes. "He has abandoned us."

As if I'd do that! I'll wait to abandon them at a time much more convenient for me, never you fear!

So I decided to watch a bit as they tried to fight against the many Orcs. Little Ori even tried to use his slingshot to shoot a rock at their captain. It didn't do anything but bounce off, but points for effort, I suppose.

When I'd gotten bored of watching, I popped up from my hiding place.

"This way, you fools!"

They all staggered to me, and then we tumbled into the tunnel (I with dignity, of course). I counted them as they entered. I feel rather more like a nanny than a Wizard.

We all huddled underground for a second, and then the most ridiculous cacophony came from above, and we froze, listening.

An orc tumbled into the tunnel, an arrow in its heart. Thorin wrenched the arrow free and glared at it.

"Elves."

How convenient! They must have taken care of the rest of the enemy, so there was no fear of our being followed.

In sudden silence, the Company turned to peer into the dark of the tunnel, which stretched away.

Dwalin spoke. "I cannot see where the pathway leads. Do we follow it or no?"

Bofur, the cheerful miner, said "Follow it, of course!"

They seemed a bit undecided, so I added my own I.S.T.A.R.I. advice.

"I think that would be wise," I said.

And walk on we did.

* * *

** Farewell, Minty, Myrtle and Margaret the ponies (and one horse). We hardly knew ye.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The secret tunnel to Rivendell**

**Date: Eru knows**

I would like out of this tunnel.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Still the secret tunnel**

**Date: Probably the same day**

I mean, I am certainly grateful to be away from murderous orcs, but the novelty of being underground and surrounded by dirt loses some of its charms after the first few hours.

The Dwarves, of course, love it. There is a great deal of cheerful talk and even snatches of singing, primarily about the joys of digging. Bofur and Gloin are discussing the tunnel's construction and ways it might be improved.

"It's a nice enough place, sure enough, but it isn't Dwarf-work, is it?"

"Good basic structure, though. Wouldn't take too much to fix it up."

Bilbo, of course, has not been involved in the excited babble about construction, especially after Nori elbowed him in the ribs and said, "Must feel like home, eh, Burglar? Underground in a little rabbit warren again!" To which Bilbo looked indignant and began lecturing the thief over the clear distinction between a Hobbit Hole ("A _smial_, Master Dwarf, and I'll thank you not to insult Bag End again!") and a tunnel ("A severe lack of decent pantries, for one thing!") Nori tried to escape a few times, but eventually gave up and simply nodded every time Bilbo paused for breath.

At least it distracted poor Bilbo from his post-battle nerves. The princes, on the other hand, have not yet come down from their post-battle euphoria, especially the brunet one, who is still babbling to his brother ("Did you _see, _Fee? Did you see that! I shot that Warg right in the face! _Blam_! In the face!").

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Do not dawdle, Gandalf. The White Council awaits.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Just above the Valley**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Finally! The tunnel fell away to reveal the pathway continued in the open air. We stepped out (the Dwarves only a little glum) and there below us lay the Valley, shimmering and beautiful.

I looked fondly on Elrond's home.

"The Valley of Imladris," I said. "In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name." I took a dramatic pause.

Which Bilbo decided to fill.

"Rivendell," he breathed. He looked suitably awed enough that I decided to forgive him the interruption. For I am a patient and understanding Wizard.

I continued. "Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea."

And then Thorin turned on his bluster and growled, "This was your plan all along! To seek refuge with our enemy!" Immediately all of the other Dwarves gathered behind him and glowered at me (at least, little Ori tried, but he kept trying to sneak peeks at Rivendell like the Hobbit). I frowned.

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield!" (Thorin Oakenbrain, more like) "The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself."

Thoroin scoffed. "You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us."

"Of course they will," I said. Good grief. Thorin acted as though I were going to march in and tell the Elves the _truth._ He ought to know by now that I avoid telling the complete truth to anyone. Ridiculous Dwarf. "_But_," I stressed. "We have questions that need to be answered." I looked around the group of surly Dwarves and fascinated Hobbit. "If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact and respect and no small degree of charm." _Thorin_. "Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

At least then Thorin was busy muttering about "pompous elves" instead of blaming me for manipulating all of them into visiting Rivendell. "This was your plan all along!" The cheek!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

That _was_ your plan all along.

**Agent: Gandlaf the Grey**

**Location: Almost to Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Well, of course. But how dare he _accuse_ me, even so? Me, Gandalf the Grey! What nerve!

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: The same day**

We entered Rivendell proper. I was eager for some intelligent conversation. The Dwarves simply looked uneasy. Bilbo stared around in awe just as if he were a little faunt again, watching my fireworks. There were a few Elves out and about, strolling in serene quiet. It was a shame that none of them were singing. The Noldor have beautiful voices, and often compose clever songs at the drop of a hat, but I suppose they couldn't think of any lyrics to welcome a straggly bunch of Dwarves and a Hobbit. Certainly nothing dignified.

An elf glided down a flight of stairs, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Mithrandir," he said. Ah! The ever-polite Lindir! A charming fellow.

We greeted each other, trying to ignore the murmurs of Dwarves. I distinctly heard Thorin whisper "Stay sharp," to Dwalin.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," I said.

Lindir said "My lord Elrond is not here."

I was surprised for a moment, though I should not have been. Lindir is far too proper to have greeted me before Elrond, if the lord had been at home. But still, I asked "Where is he?"

Apparently that was Elrond's cue to come thundering across the bridge. They looked a fine sight, and I recognized the sound of hunting-horns.

Of course, Thorin decided this was some kind of attack. (_Dwarves._)

"_Ifridi bekar_!" roared Thorin. "Hold ranks!"

They all bunched together in a tight circle, shoving a bewildered Bilbo towards the center. Then they all pointed their weapons outward, like a particularly metallic hedgehog. The mounted Elves formed a circle around the Dwarves and then Elrond peeled off to halt in front of me.

"Gandalf," said Elrond. He raised an eyebrow.

I bowed. Must show proper respect to one's host! Especially one with such a good wine cellar. "Lord Elrond," I said. "_Mellonnen! Mo evinedh_?" (To translate, I said "My friend! Where have you been?")

Elrond anwered in the same language. "_Farannem 'lamhoth I udul o charad. Dagannem rim na Iant Vedui_." (Again, to translate, he said "We've been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South. We slew a number near the Hidden Pass.")

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Gandalf. I know Sindarin. You do not need to translate.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

He dismounted and continued in Common. "Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near." He stared at me and raised an eyebrow again.

Hmmm. Almost as if someone had lured them. How odd. We live in strange times indeed, my friend.

That seemed to be as much time as Thorin could stand not being the center of attention. He stomped forward and Elrond looked down.

"Welcome Thorin, son of Thran," he said, with another quirk of his eyebrows.

Thorin looked stonily back. "I do not believe we have met."

Elrond ignored the rudeness gracefully. "You have your grandfather's bearing. I knew Thror when he ruled under the Mountain.

"Indeed. He made no mention of you."

Elrond simply pretended not to have heard the insult and switched back to Sindarin, which made the Dwarves grip their weapons even tighter. Elrond can be marvelously passive-aggressive when he likes. "_Nartho I noer, toltho I viruvor. Boe I annam vann a nethail vin_."

Gloin barked, "What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?"

Cue more clutching of weapons.

"No, Master Gloin," I sighed. "He's offering you food."

Mr. Baggins, who had been staring at a fountain, whipped his head around so quickly I thought it would snap. There was a quick huddle among the Dwarves.

When they were done, Gloin nodded seriously. "Ah. Well, in that case, lead on."

Thorin was still growling at me, so I made sure to tell Lindir to prepare a nice vegetarian lunch for all of us. Revenge is sweet.

* * *

**Author's Note: So, in good Hobbitish tradition, here's a chapter for my birthday! (A few days late, but still.)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Please note that this is a two chapter update; if you haven't read chapter 13, go back and read it!**

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

While the Dwarves descended on the spread of food, Lord Elrond and I took a walk through his halls. We were only a few steps away when it became obvious they had discovered this was a meatless banquet. I could hear low grumbles of unhappy Dwarves even through the peaceful music and tinkling fountains. Both Elrond and I pretended not to hear them. We, after all, are far too well-behaved to descend to mocking our Dwarvish friends. Though Elrond made one of his expressive faces (mostly eyebrow) and I couldn't help but smile when we heard what sounded like one of the princes fail utterly at flirting with the surrounding Elves.

"Can't say I fancy Elf maids myself. Too thin. They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me. Although… that one there's not bad."

There was a brief pause while we very studiously did _not _stop walking and strain to hear what happened next.

Dwalin spoke.

"That's not an elf maid…"

Immediately the other Dwarves burst into laughter, the prince (whichever one that was) squawking his innocence.

We resumed walking.

"Kind of you to invite us. I'm not really dressed for dinner."

Elrond laughed. "You never are."

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

This is all very charming, Gandalf. But as I am sure you are aware from my location, _I am here_. I am in Rivendell. For the meeting. I will see you in a few hours. At the meeting. You do not need to send me reports from a few rooms away.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th **

Elrond and I returned to the courtyard. The Dwarves were still gamely hunting through piles of lettuce in search of meat. The brunet prince was bright red and staring at his plate. Bilbo was ignoring everyone and happily eating off the others' plates.

A beautiful elf maiden wandered behind Oin, playing a flute. Oin stuffed a napkin in his hearing-trumpet.

We moved to our seats and Lindir (who was looking a little white around the mouth), took his place at Elrond's left hand.

After we were settled, Elrond examined the two swords we had found in the Trolls' hoard (Thorin handed his over reluctantly). I knew immediately they were an impressive find when Elrond's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline.

He looked first at the sword Thorin had claimed. "This is Orcrist," he said. "The Goblin Cleaver. A famous blade, forged by the High Elves of the West, my kin. May it serve you well." He handed it back to Thorin, who looked torn between disgust at his sword's Elvish pedigree and pride in its fame. I didn't have time to puzzle out Thorin's expression, because then Elrond looked at mine.

"And this is Glamdring, the Foe-hammer, sword of the King of Gondolin." Hah! _Mine_ belonged to King Turgon the Wise. "These swords were made for the Goblin wars of the First Age."

I saw Bilbo peer at his own sword, and Balin say something, but I listened to Elrond.

"How did you come by these?" he asked.

"We found them in a Troll hoard on the Great East Road, shortly before we were ambushed by orcs." Said ambush which had come as a complete surprise to me, may I remind you.

Elrond stilled. "And what were you doing on the Great East Road?"

Thorin and I froze. Then Thorin stood up with an "Excuse me," and walked over to a different side of the Dwarves' table. Leaving me to explain to Elrond. Coward.

Thankfully, Elrond appeared content to have his question unanswered for now. Instead he merely mused. "Thirteen Dwarves and a Halfling. Hmm. Strange traveling companions, Gandalf."

Well. I really can't have anyone looking down on any I chose to travel with, even the lord Elrond! (Heh. "Looking down.") So I merely looked wise and said, "These are the descendants of the house of Durin." Well, mostly. But "These are the descendants of the house of Durin, except for the 'Ur brothers and I think the 'Ri brothers," doesn't have the same ring. I continued. "They're noble, decent folk. And they're surprisingly cultured." I saw Lindir staring at Nori as he pocketed a small statuette and Bombur, who was laughing with his mouth full, spitting bits of sprout halfway down the table. Lindir looked helplessly at Elrond, who continued to look blandly on. I forged ahead. "They've got a deep love of the arts," I said.

At which point Nori turned to the harpist and said "Change the tune, why don't you? I feel like I'm at a funeral!"

Oin looked startled and twisted his hearing-trumpet. "Did somebody die?"

I gave up and just leaned back in my chair.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: A few minutes later**

Oh, joy. A song. Bofur's just clambered up _onto_ the table. The beautiful Elvish music has died out.

"All right, lads!" chirped Bofur. "There's only one thing for it!" He took a deep breath. "Theeeeeeeres..."

So much for a peaceful harp and flute duet.

After that everything descended into Dwarvish chaos, Bofur singing something about a "merry old inn" and its marvelous beer. There was a visit from the Man in the Moon and a cat playing a violin at some point. The other Dwarves clapped and sung along while Bofur kicked dishes all about the place. And then it turned into a food fight. I saw one of Thorin's nephews fling half of his plate wildly, to land with a _splat_ inches away from Lindir's face. Lindir only stood there miserably while mashed food slid down the pillar behind him.

Bofur finished with a merry "'It's after Three!' he said!" and a bow. The Dwarves roared and Lindir sighed.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I am eternally grateful that I requested dinner in my room.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

After dinner we all split up. I saw Bilbo take the opportunity to do a bit of exploring. Elrond went off to do something-or-other. Lindir looked long-suffering and began organizing the Rivendell cleaners. The Dwarves, not surprisingly, made camp in the courtyard and squatted in a suspicious circle, unwilling to wander about the Elves' home. Their loss.

I'm off to find the wine cellars.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Are you still in your room?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Yes.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Oh, good.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

You might want to stay there.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Why.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I just had a glimpse of the main fountain. It seems the Dwarves have decided it would be a good place for a bath.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Ah. I will not be leaving my room anytime soon, then. Thank you for the warning; I do not require further details.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

They are all quite naked.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Gandalf. I _do not _require details.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

All of them.

And now they are playing games. I believe. Oh, dear.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

They're wrestling.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

_Gandalf._

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

I suppose I'll just walk a bit faster to the cellar. Yes.

* * *

**_Two_ chapters in _one _day? It must be my birthday! (Oh wait. It is. Hahaha. Ha. Eru I'm funny.)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackso**n.

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Silence.

Thorin has his feet planted, arms firmly crossed, and is busy glaring daggers at Elrond. Balin is at his king's side. Bilbo is… also here. I'm not sure how- I certainly didn't invite him, but I must admit that I am proud my Hobbit is already wiggling his way into secret meetings. Well done, my boy!

More silence, more glaring. Bilbo keeps looking nervously between Thorin and Elrond, shuffling a bit. Elrond, to his credit, is maintaining a placid façade, with something like 20% of his usual eyebrow.

More silence.

This stopped being entertaining _minutes_ ago.

"Our business is no concern of Elves," Thorin finally growls. Hah! The Dwarf cracked first.

"For goodness sake, Thorin," I huff. "Show him the map."

Thorin is hunching his shoulders defensively, probably trying to curl around his precious map. "It is the legacy of my people," he growls. "It is mine to protect, as are its secrets."

"Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves! Your pride will be your downfall! You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map!" Elrond helpfully remains silent as Thorin continues fuming. I feel as though I am trying to convince a Hobbit fauntling to share his toys. "Show it to Lord Elrond or no dessert for you for a week, young fellow!"

I do not say the last part of that sentence. It would have been very amusing, though!

Thorin continues glaring while we all stare at him. Finally he slumps and brings out the map, slowly handing it to Lord Elrond. I could cheer when Thorin brushes young Balin's protests aside.

Thankfully, the Elf lord doesn't waste any (more) time but immediately bends to the map with a scholar's focus. His eyes flicker over the runes, and now he's giving Thorin a piercing look.

"Erebor," he says. "What is your interest in this map?"

Thorin's opened his mouth to speak, and no way in the Void am I letting Elrond hear whatever pitiful cover story that Dwarf is about to try.

"It's mainly academic," I say quickly. "As you know, this sort of artifact sometimes contains hidden text. You still read Ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" Elrond stares at me before giving a minute shrug and turning back to the map.

Still got it.

Elrond is pacing now, bent over Thror's (paranoid) map. We're watching him. Well, _I_ am watching him. Thorin and Balin are glaring. Bilbo looks like he's waiting for Elrond to start doing magic tricks.

Elrond's pacing has taken him into a spot of moonlight pooling on the stone floor. He's stopped.

"_Cirith Ithil_," he breathes.

What? Drat. I never even thought to look for that. I have to say something.

"Moon runes. Of course. An easy thing to miss." I mean, obviously.

"Well in this case, that is true," Elrond continues. Excuse you. "Moon runes can only be read by the light of a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written."

Thorin butts in. "Can you read them?" he asks.

Elrond is looking thoughtful and making his way to an open area with a gleaming table. We trail after him. "These runes," he says, "were written on a Midsummer's Eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago."

Bother. Now we'll have to wait for those exact specifications before we can read anything!

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: Midsummer's Eve. You know that, Gandalf.**

Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: Who even knows**

Elrond is still speaking.

"It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight.

Oh!

Well! Splendid! Tonight just so happens to have the correct moon at the correct evening! Isn't the universe marvelous?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: _Midsummer's Eve_**

Yes, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: Midsummer's Eve!**

Really, it's just one unbelievable coincidence after another. I would have thought we would have to kick around Rivendell for weeks _at least_ to read the map on the proper evening, but no! We just happen to come at the exact day! Imagine if we had come just twenty-four hours late!

Thorin would have had the sulk of a lifetime.

And, just as Elrond lay the map on the table, the cloud cover slid away and the moon in her full glory shone down upon us, the brightest rays seeming to converge on the table and light rippled through the map. Runes glowed where there had only been blank parchment, and Elrond read.

"Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the keyhole."

We barely had a moment to stand in the appropriate awe before Mr. Baggins blinked.

"Durin's Day?"

I spoke up first (I was beginning to be tired of only Elrond sounding wise).

"It is the start of the Dwarves' new year, when the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together," I said.

And then because Thorin can't be cheerful for longer than two seconds, he grumbled, "This is ill news. Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."

Balin tried to soothe him. "We still have time," he said.

Bilbo looked confused. "Time? For what?"

Bilbo, hush.

"To find the entrance," said Balin. "We have to be standing at exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."

_Balin_.

Elrond brought out his eyebrows again.

"So this is your purpose," he said. "To enter the Mountain."

No?

Thorin bristled. "What of it?"

Elrond only looked down at him. "There are some who would not deem it wise," he said, cryptically.

Thorin merely huffed and snatched back Thror's map.

I couldn't help but ask "Who do you mean?"

"You are not the only guardian to stand watch over Middle-earth." And then, before I could even come up with a witty reply, Elrond turned and walked off.

How dare he! I always get the last mysterious word! I had to stand there frowning and looking wise to recover any sort of dignity.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

And I know how much you care about your dignity, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

After the Dwarves and Bilbo left, I caught up to the lord Elrond. We had a little chat.

"Of course I was going to tell you," I said, in the face of Elrond's clear disapproval. "I was waiting for this very chance! And really, I think you can trust that I know what I am doing."

"Do you? That dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen in your plan should fail, if you wake that beast?"

"What if we succeed?" Question the success of _my _plan, do you? "If the Dwarves take back the mountain our defenses in the East will be strengthened."

Elrond wasn't persuaded. "It is a dangerous move, Gandalf."

"It is also dangerous to do nothing. Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?"

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family. His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall? Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth."

Well, now, obviously Thorin shan't fall to madness. I'll be there the whole time, and I know the signs. I am confident that I can keep Thorin safe from himself. And "it is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth?" Ha! Who else will, if not the Wise? Random chance? Ridiculous. Elrond is terribly clever, but sometimes he says the silliest things.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Exactly. We have a calling to oversee that Middle-earth follows the proper course, as we set it.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

But of course we will only do the will of the Valar.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th, TA 2941**

Of course.

* * *

**Such a good thing our favorite grumpy dwarf king and hobbit burglar weren't eavesdropping on that last conversation.**

**And! Shoutout to Nuka, who has reviewed almost _every single chapter_ of this little story, but is always logged in as a guest, so I haven't been able to reply and say thanks! So thank you, Nuka!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 20th-21st, TA 2941**

I managed to ditch the Dwarves and catch up to Lord Elrond.

"With or without our help," I said, "these Dwarves will march on the mountain. They are determined to reclaim their homeland. I do not believe Thorin Oakenshield feels that he's answerable to anyone." Which is ridiculous. "Nor for that matter am I." Which is only natural.

"It is not me you must answer to."

I admit I was confused by Elrond's statement, but then I turned and saw _her_.

"Lady Galadriel," I said.

The lady stood draped in white, millennia in her eyes and starlight in her hair. I felt better just looking at her. She's almost as wonderful as Old Toby, do you know?

"Mithrandir," she said. "It has been a long time."

Quick, think of something charming!

"Age may have changed me, but not so the Lady of Lorien."

I could _feel_ Elrond looking reluctantly impressed behind me, and Galadriel smiled.

"I had no idea Lord Elrond sent for you." Indeed, I thought you had, Saruman! As long as Lady Galadriel was at the meeting, though, I didn't complain.

But, just then, a deep, commanding voice spoke from the shadows.

"He didn't. I did." Then you stepped into the light.

I bowed and murmured, "Saruman."

And you said, "You've been busy of late, old friend."

I really do have to commend your excellent sense of timing and dramatic entrance. You must have been waffling in that shadowy patch for ages!

By the time the preliminary business was taken care of, I explained Radagast's absence, and the first round of snacks were over, dawn had come. Another day.

The niceties over, you turned to me.

"Tell me, Gandalf, did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?"

Ahhh, it always started like that. While the Good and Wise of Middle-earth are our allies, we the I.S.T.A.R.I. must keep secret the true scope of our mission here as secret agents of the Valar. If we had been _ordinary_ nigh-immortal magical Men, of course you would not be expected to have known of my "plans and schemes." The I.S.T.A.R.I. have no secrets from each other, eh my friend?

I said, "Unnoticed? No, I'm simply doing what I feel to be right."

"The dragon has long been on your mind," said the lady Galadriel. So intuitive!

"This is true, my lady," I said. "Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy, a dragon could be used to terrible effect."

You said, "What enemy? Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron is vanquished. He can never regain his full strength."

Elrond joined in. "Gandalf, for four hundred years, we have lived in peace. A hard-won, watchful peace."

"Are we?" I said. "Are we at peace? Trolls have come down from the mountains. They are raiding villages, destroying farms. Orcs have attacked us on the road."

"Hardly a prelude to war," said Elrond.

"Always you must meddle, looking for trouble where none exists," you grumbled.

I must say, I was feeling rather attacked. But the lady Galadriel spoke. "Let him speak," she said. So kind!

In the very thankful silence, I said, "There is something at work beyond the evil of Smaug. Something far more powerful. We can remain blind, but it will not be ignoring us, that I can promise you. A sickness lies over the Greenwood. The woodsmen who live there now call it 'Mirkwood'. And they say..." I paused for dramatic effect.

Which you ruined.

I am quite hurt by that.

"Well, don't stop now," you said. "Tell us about what the _woodsmen_ say."

"They speak of a Necromancer living in Dol Guldur, a sorcerer who can summon the dead."

You scoffed. "That's absurd. No such power exists in the world. This...Necromancer is nothing more than a mortal man. A conjurer dabbling in black magic."

"And so I thought too. But, Radagast has seen-"

"Radagast? Do not speak to me about Radagast the Brown. He is a foolish fellow."

"Well, he's odd, I grant you. He lives a solitary life."

"It's not that. It's his excessive consumption of mushrooms. They've addled his brain and yellowed his teeth. I warned him, it is unbefitting of the I.S.T.A.R.I. to be wander in the woods..."

And then I listened attentively to all of your very nice speech, which I do not put down in its entirety here because I do not feel that mere ink and paper could capture its brilliance. But I listened to the whole thing, I assure you.

So when I placed the Nazgul sword, wrapped in cloth, on the table with a thump, trust me when I say I only did it because I could have _sworn _you were finished.

Elrond, who had also clearly been listening to you, spoke over your last words for I am sure the same reason.

"What is that?" asked Elrond.

Galadriel answered him. "A relic of Mordor." Which she knew because she has great wisdom and knowledge. Not because I told her telepathically.

Elrond cautiously opened the package and revealed the fell thing.

As one, we recoiled. Nasty piece of work, fell blades.

"A Morgul blade," breathed Elrond.

Galadriel nodded. "Made for the Witch-king of Angmar, and buried with him. When Angmar fell, men of the North took his body and all that he possessed and sealed it within the High-Fells of Rhudaur. Deep within the rock they buried them, in a tomb so dark it would never come to light."

"This is not possible," said Lord Elrond. "A powerful spells lies upon those tombs; they cannot be opened."

"What proof do we have this weapon came from Angmar's grave?" you asked.

I considered blustering, but eventually chose honesty. "I have none."

You scoffed again. And then began yet another brilliant speech as to why the Dwarves' quest was folly. Which, again, I listened to with rapt attention.

And then Lindir appeared.

"My lord Elrond. The Dwarves! They've gone!"

I was _completely_ surprised and _not_ expecting that, you have my word.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 21st, TA 2941**

Gandalf. _I was at the meeting_. You already told me this. And I did not doubt your attention until after reading that report.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 21st, TA 2941**

After the meeting's conclusion, Lady Galadriel and I remained behind for a bit.

"You will follow them?" she asked.

The answer was obvious.

"Yes." I'd told them to meet me before the Misty Mountains.

I mean, I'd told them to meet me before the Misty Mountains _if_ we somehow became separated/the Council decided to give their permission for the Quest to continue. I certainly didn't tell them to meet me before the Misty Mountains even before the Council made their decision. Silly Dwarves.

"You are right to help Thorin Oakenshield." So wise! "But I fear this quest has set in motion forces we do not yet understand. The riddle of the Morgul blade must be answered. Something moves in the shadows, unseen, hidden from our sight. It will not show itself, not yet. But every day it grows in strength. You must be careful."

"Yes."

I turned and started out to collect my pack and Pipe-weed when Galadriel spoke again.

"Mithrandir? Why the Halfling?"

I sighed. "I don't know. Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I've found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay. Simple acts of kindness and love." I paused. "Why Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps it is because I am afraid, and he gives me courage."

Suddenly, the lady was there, and she took my hands in hers and spoke into my mind

"Do not be afraid, Mithrandir." She finished speaking aloud. "You are not alone. If you should ever need my help, I will come." So courageous!

I bowed, and when I looked up, she was gone.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 21st, TA 2941**

We have had this conversation many times, Gandalf. The Hobbits are kind, perhaps. But they are soft and concerned with the small things of life, like so many common people of all the races. That is why the greats such as ourselves must do the great deeds that will see our vision come to pass.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Rivendell**

**Date: June 21st, TA 2941**

I mean the Valar's vision.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Just before the Misty Mountains**

**Date: August 10th, TA 2941**

Those miserable Dwarves didn't wait for me! I was supposed to meet them here! But no. Thorin Oakenhead just _had_ to go on.

I'm sure they'll be fine until I catch up.

* * *

**Author's Note: I can't tell you how excited I was to learn that Galadriel is Elrond's mother-in-law. Favourite Tolkien factoid, y/y**?


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: August 17th, TA 2941**

The Dwarves ended up captured. Serves them right. I'm writing this from a cozy little rafter over the Goblin King's throne room (cave?). The Goblin King and Thorin are snarling at each other, but nothing too serious yet.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 17th, TA 2941**

Indeed.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: Same Day**

You know, I spend months tracking them down, only to realize that they'd continued on through the Misty Mountains without me. I had a nice safe route free of the Stone Giant mating dance grounds, too, but noooo.

Perhaps I was a bit later than intended. But I only had a few pub detours, honestly. Dwarves are made of stone, aren't they? One would think they'd be more patient.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 17th, TA 2941**

I can only imagine the frustration of disobedient lackeys.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: Same Day**

And then I found a cave with the disturbed remains of a camp-fire and blankets, stinking of Goblins.

Of _course _they would get themselves captured by Goblins. Of course.

Hmmm. Thorin and the Goblin King are still posturing.

I'm trying to think of the best way to enact a(nother) dramatic rescue. Timing's the key, you know.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: Same Day**

I'm too old to be crouching on rafters all day.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: Same. Day.**

Oh. Shame. The Goblins crushed the old healer's hearing-trumpet.

And they're threatening to torture the little scribe?

Rude.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: Still Monday**

The Goblin King is _singing _now.

I'd better get a good dramatic moment soon. I don't think I can take much more of this.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Goblin City**

**Date: Monday, still.**

The Goblins didn't like Thorin's sword. Heh.

Hmm. Now they're holding him down and one's raising his knife to behead Thorin.

That will do nicely.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 17th, TA 2941**

Gandalf? What are you doing? I forbid you to attack an entire kingdom of Goblins by yourself.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Almost out of the Goblin Kingdom!**

**Date: Possibly morning?**

Well! That was exciting! It makes a change from Orcs and Wargs, at least!

Just as the beheading knife started its downward stroke, I let loose a fearsome blaze of light and a wave of energy rippling through the cavern. It sent goblins and their wretched machines flying. The wave extinguished the flickering torches, so I took the opportunity to scramble down from my rafter and straighten my robes. Everyone was still in shock, so I even had time to stride into the center of the throne room as a tall shadow bearing a staff and Elvish sword.

Not a bad entrance.

The Dwarves stared at me.

I basked a bit; it's always nice to feel admired.

But then some of the Goblins began stirring, so it was time for Stage Two of my Plan: fight like mad.

"Take up arms!" I roared. "Fight! Fight!"

The Dwarves snatched up their weapons and we began delivering whirling death to the Goblins. Especially Thorin. He does like twirling around in circles during battle, doesn't he?

When the Goblin King finally struggled to his feet, I made sure to flourish my blade. He paled.

"He wields the Foe-Hammer, the Beater, bright as daylight!"

I'm ever so glad I found this sword.

Thorin blocked a blow the Goblin King made towards Nori. Overbalanced, the Great Goblin staggered and then, quite beautifully, fell off the edge of his platform, howling, into the dark pit.

There wasn't time for much more than a smirk, because his subjects shrieked in anger and started hacking at us with renewed fury. But I saw a pathway, and called out to the Dwarves, "Follow me! Quick! Run!"

We cut a path through Goblins and ran across a slender bridge.

More Goblins raced after us.

And then we saw more ahead of us.

Hmm.

Dwalin barked, "Post!" and the Dwarves cut down one of the path's guardrail posts. Then they held it in front of themselves.

"Charge!"

They swept dozens of Goblins off the path and into the depths. Unorthodox, but effective.

Fighting on suspended rope bridges and slender stone pathways was very interesting. Most of the fighting appeared to be "hack away at the bridge/support ropes/pillars to send the enemy careening off into the dark pit beneath." I must admit, it was quite satisfying.

All around me, the Dwarves pressed on. I even saw little Ori the scribe with one of Dwalin's mighty war-hammers, howling like a banshee and clonking Goblins over the head with wild swings.

We were running towards yet another bridge that looked like it lead to the outside world when the Goblin King came bursting through it from below. He scrabbled up to stand before us, jowls wobbling in fury. We halted, panting and gripping our collection of weapons. The hundreds of Goblins chasing us drew closer, whispering and cackling.

The Goblin King shouted, "You thought you could escape _me_?" He struck me with his mace, and I almost fell. "What are you going to do now, Wizard?"

Right.

I poked him in the eye with my staff.

While the Goblin King was clutching at his face and hopping in pain, I lunged forward and cut a bloody gash in the fiend's stomach, causing him to fall to his knees.

"That'll do it," he said.

I allowed myself a split second of victory. Then I swung my sword at his neck. The Goblin King shuddered and then fell, dead, the great weight of his body making the entire bridge shake and creak.

The bridge kept shaking. And then the bit we were standing on cracked apart from the rest, and suddenly we were sliding down the cave wall, hurtling towards the ground. The Dwarves clutched our bit of bridge-turned-sled and screamed.

We hit the bottom with a mighty _crash_, and bits of timber rained down on us. I, of course, managed to slip out from the wreckage and looked down at the mess of grumbling Dwarves.

Bofur, who somehow still had that _dratted hat_ stuck to his head, cleared his throat.

"Well, that could have been worse."

The Goblin King's body smashed down on top of them.

"You've got to be joking!" roared Dwalin.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Ah. So the Company has suffered some losses, then? I suppose with a smaller number of Dwarves you have recognized the foolhardiness of this Quest and are returning to your normal duties.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: We'll be out any moment now**

**Date: Is it the 18th already? Really!**

What do you mean, Saruman? Everyone's fine! A bruise here and there, but nothing to write home about.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

What.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

You mean that after fighting off the entire population of Goblin City, tumbling down a yawning pit, and then having the carcass of the Goblin King land on them… not one Dwarf was lost?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: I think I can smell fresh air**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

I know! I was pleasantly surprised myself!

The Dwarves had just managed to free themselves from the rubble when I heard one of the princes shout.

"Gandalf!"

Apparently the Goblins were there for revenge. There must have been _thousands_ of them.

Dwalin shouted, "There's too many! We can't fight them!"

"Only one thing will save us: daylight! Come on! Here, on your feet!" I shouted.

We rushed out of the cave and burst into early morning light.

I counted while the Dwarves busied themselves with the typical post-battle back-slapping and redistributed weapons.

"Five, six, seven, eight… Bifur, Bofur… that's ten… Fili, Kili… that's twelve… and Bombur- that's thirteen." Excellent. I'm still not _exactly_ sure which of Thorin's nephews is Fili or Kili, but they're usually together, so I tend to just mumble their names together and it's worked out well so far!

Wait.

"Where's Bilbo? Where is our Hobbit? Where is our _Hobbit_?"

Bofur and several of the others spun around, apparently trying to find Bilbo lurking around their knees. Dwalin only glowered and said, "Curse the Halfling! Now he's lost!"

Gloin and his red beard looked indignant. "I thought he was with Dori!"

The tailor puffed up. "Don't blame me!"

Heavens. If they managed to let my Bilbo get killed back there…

I reminded myself that talking to Dwarves is like talking to toddlers.

"Well, where did you last see him?"

Nori, the sneak, finally spoke up. "I think I saw him slip away. When they first collared us."

"What happened exactly? Tell me!"

Thorin looked furious. "I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance and he took it. He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out of his door. We will not be seeing our Hobbit again. He is long gone."

There was a tense moment, and then suddenly Bilbo stepped out from behind a tree.

"No, he isn't."

Awkward.

And now even the Hobbit is making dramatic entrances from the shadows!

Perhaps I am starting a trend.

"Bilbo Baggins!" I said. "I've never been so glad to see anyone in my life!"

An exaggeration, perhaps, but the lad looked like he needed some cheering up. And he was certainly a close third to Pipe-weed and Lady Galadriel.

The princes were positively ecstatic. They reminded me of puppies.

"Bilbo, we'd given you up!"

"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?!"

Then, of course, Dwalin ruined the happy atmosphere like a bucket of cold water.

"How, indeed," he said, squinting suspiciously.

I mean, of course the Dwarves would question Bilbo's lucky escape. There's an obvious answer, of course. _I_, Gandalf, picked him. Of course my Hobbit would be spectacular at slipping away just before the big fight and then reappearing with no excuse.

Bilbo was clearly struggling to come up with an excuse. He gave a nervous little laugh and that half-smile he does when he's not sure what to say.

Also, he slipping this ring into his pocket. No one else saw, but I, one of the mighty I.S.T.A.R.I., did. Probably nothing. I can't really blame Bilbo for wanting to take full credit. So I said, "What does it matter? He's back!"

Thorin King of Stubbornness didn't think that was enough.

"It matters. I want to know. Why did you come back?"

Suddenly the king and the burglar were staring at each other, and I could _feel_ the rest of us fade into the background. Rather rude of them, ignoring me. Don't they realize who is in charge of this Quest?

Bilbo cleared his throat and looked at all of us. About time. I don't know what all that was about, but I don't like not being the center of attention! And then he gave an adorable little speech.

"Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End. I miss my books. And my armchair. And my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. And that's why I came back, because you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can."

It brought a tear to this old fogey's eye, I tell you.

And then some great one-armed white Orc showed up.

Thorin said, "Out of the frying pan…"

I thought, _Oh no, Master Dwarf. I am for once getting the last word here._

So I finished. "… and into the fire!" And just in case they didn't get it, "Run! Run!"

I seem to say that a lot.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Ring? What ring?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Gandalf?

* * *

**Author's Note: Action scenes are _hard_. And, as always, all the thanks to Ranubis , who provided much-need fixes to pacing and also the best of Gandalf and Saruman's reactions in this chapter.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following reports are extracted from the TA 2941 files._

* * *

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A mountainside**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941, early morning**

You know, running halfway across Middle-earth with Orcs and Wargs chasing you may _sound _exciting, but it does lose its novelty after a while.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Further down the mountainside**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941, late morning**

But it is an excellent motivator for some exercise.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Even further down**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941, afternoon**

I wish we still had the ponies.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A plain**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941, late afternoon**

I miss Margaret.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Too close to Orcs**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941, evening**

The Wargs ran faster than their masters, and I almost screamed when one caught up to Bilbo. But that splendid Hobbit skewered the beast on his little sword! Several other Wargs caught up to us as well, but the Dwarves took care of them easily enough.

There wasn't time to congratulate Bilbo on his kill, but I shall make sure to do so later. It was quite the most warlike action I have ever seen from him!

Oops. Back to running.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A cliff**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941, evening**

Bother. They've trapped us: Wargs and Orcs before us, a sheer cliff at our backs. It is a desolate place, with little but scraggly grasses and a few trees.

_Trees_.

"Up into the trees, all of you! Come on, climb!"

I quickly scaled one of the tallest trees. Once clear of immediate threat of being eaten, I looked around for the rest of the Company.

Have you ever seen thirteen Dwarves and a Hobbit try to clamber up trees while positively clanking with armor and weapons, Saruman? It's hilarious.

Bilbo was the last to make for the trees; he was trying to tug his sword out of the dead Warg's skull.

"Bilbo, climb!" I shouted.

Finally, the little Hobbit heaved the sword free and climbed to (relative) safety.

The rest of the Wargs and Warg Riders had by that time reached us. They circled our trees, growling menacingly.

But perching in a tree is very undignified, so I found a moth and we had a nice chat. He says hello, by the way. Ignoring the jeers of our enemies below, I whispered to the moth, and he went fluttering away.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941**

Gandalf, can you tell me how many official methods of retreat from a War Rider taskforce are listed in the I.S.T.A.R.I. Evasive Maneuvers Handbook?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A tree**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941**

Three hundred and ninety-four.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941**

And which of those is "climb a tree, request backup from a moth, and hope the enemy force goes away," Gandalf?

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A tree**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941**

None.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941**

Indeed.

We will discuss this in your upcoming six month performance review.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: A tree**

**Date: August 18th, TA 2941**

Suddenly, the Wargs fell silent.

What now.

Apparently, that big white Orc from the very beginning of this day-long chase. He rode up on a matching white Warg. It was a very impressive entrance.

I saw Thorin staring in even more shock and horror than the situation called for. Did he know the fellow?

"Azog?!"

Apparently yes.

This… Azog sneered and spat out a string of Black Speech.

"It cannot be," said Thorin.

Does Thorin know the language of Mordor?

I didn't have time to be confused, because the next bit of Black Speech Azog said was, "Kod, Toragid biriz." _This one is mine._

Ah! I understand now! They must be archenemies! Well done, Thorin! He's certainly grumpy enough to have many enemies, but an _arch_enemy is something to be proud of. Only important people have one of those. Of course, mine is Sauron, the Dark Maia and Morgoth's lieutenant, but we can't all be an agent of the I.S.T.A.R.I. An Orcish war-chief is something to be proud of too, Thorin.

"Woroi-da!" _Kill the others!_

Oh no, my lad. I don't think so.

I was just about to unleash some truly impressive Wizard magic when the Wargs leapt forward and smashed into our trees. They slavered and scrabbled as high as they could reach, while we were forced to clutch at our perches as best we could.

And _then_ one of the trees began to topple over. Several of the Dwarves were in it. And Bilbo. Thank the Valar, they managed to leap from their tree into the next one over.

But then the Wargs did it to that tree. And the next one.

Before you knew it, they reached my tree, and I too had to hop (_hop!_) from tree to tree as they fell like dominoes.

And then we were all clinging to the last tree. It was sturdy, certainly able to hold all fifteen of us, but I knew it couldn't stand against the Wargs' assault much longer.

The others weren't much help besides general screaming, so I popped on the ring Narya and lit a pinecone on fire and chucked it down at the Wargs. I lit two more and threw one at the blond prince.

"Fili!" I cried, hoping that was the right one. The blond one looked up and caught the pinecone.

_Yes_.

The others caught on quickly, and soon we had a nice little bunch of flaming pinecone as ammunition.

The Dwarves cheered.

And that's when our tree finally gave a great groan and the roots began to give.

Blasted Dwarves.

The tree tipped and suddenly we crashed to a halt, hanging out perpendicular to the ground.

The ground that was very, very far away.

"Mister Gandalf!"

That was Dori! The only Dwarf who could appreciate a good cup of tea!

I looked down just in time to see Dori dangling by a branch, with Ori hanging onto his older brother's leg. And then Dori lost his grip.

I swung my staff out into the abyss and grunted when Dori managed to grab it. I found myself laid out flat against the branch I had been sitting on, straining to support the weight of two full-grown Dwarves.

Now, at this point I was incredibly annoyed. Imagine, being taken down by a rabble of _orcs_. And only because I happened to be a member of Thorin Stubbornshield's Quest. _I am not going down in the background of someone else's epic death._ So I'd just prepared myself to deposit Dori and Ori back onto the tree and then stride down the tree and kill all the orcs in a flurry of Wizard swordsmanship.

But Thorin beat me to it. I could just see him pull himself to his feet and raise Orcrist and that ridiculous oak shield. He stood tall and proud, flames all around him and his hair blowing back majestically.

What a showoff.

He began striding down the trunk while the rest of us just sort of watched. Then he began to move faster. And in a few steps he had shifted to a full-out run, straight down the tree and roaring in fury. The white Orc grinned manically and held his arms out, as if welcoming his ancient enemy.

Thorin pulled back his sword for the first strike-

And then it all went to pot when the white Warg crashed into him and the Dwarf tumbled to the ground in one blow.

That was _embarrassing_, Thorin, really.

Somehow, Thorin managed to struggle back to his feet, just in time to meet Azog's club with his face. Down he went. Again.

Balin cried, "Nooo!"

It was all very dramatic.

Then the Warg was shaking Thorin around like a chew toy and Dwalin was trying desperately to get to his own feet and join the "fight," but his tree branch snapped almost in half and he swung out over the cliff's edge.

So he settled for screaming "Nooo!" as well.

Thorin sort of bashed the pommel of Orcrist at the Warg's head, causing the Warg to toss the Dwarf away. He landed with a sickening _crack_ onto a rock. His sword fell from his hand and he went limp.

I would call it a swoon.

"Biriz torag khobdudol," said Azog. _Bring me the Dwarf's head_.

I prepared myself to finally get down there for some aforementioned Wizard swordsmanship when _Bilbo_ raced down the tree. He launched himself from the roots and smashed into the Warg Rider about to decapitate Thorin. There was a flurry, in which only Bilbo and the very confused Orc rolled around and flailed at each other. I, the Dwarves, the Orcs and even Azog stared, bemused.

Then Bilbo reared back and stabbed his Orc right in the chest.

I'm so proud of him.

Bilbo yanked his sword out of the now-dead Orc and stumbled backwards until he stood in front of Thorin, panting and covered in blood. He glared at the Orcs and swung his sword wildly.

Azog sneered and waved several of his Orcs forward.

He growled in Black Speech. _Kill him_.

Suddenly, Dwalin and the princes came whooping down from the tree and headlong into the Orcs. Bilbo jumped in with them, but they didn't last long. The Dwarves became surrounded by Wargs, and the white Warg smashed into Bilbo, sending the little Hobbit tumbling to the ground. Azog and his Warg approached Bilbo slowly, ready to deliver the killing blow, with the fighting Dwarves too far away to aid him.

And that's when the moth came back. He says hello again, by the way (terrible short-term memory, moths). I looked out and, indeed, the Eagles had come, just as I asked. It wasn't _quite_ the most dramatic moment yet, so I shook my head and the Eagles continued circling.

I decided the moment that Dori lost his grip on my staff we were sufficiently in danger. I nodded, and peered down as Dori and Ori plummeted down into the night, screaming all the way. The Eagles caught them quite nicely. The rest of the Eagles swooped up over the tree and had a merry time grabbing Wargs and Orcs and flinging them over the cliff or knocking down any standing trees to crush them. One by one, they gathered up the rest of the Company. The Eagle that picked up Thorin very kindly gathered Orcrist as well, but the shield fell to the ground.

Finally, only I was left.

I looked through the flames at the howling, furious Orcs and Wargs, and took a deep breath, ready to roar out a good curse or two. But then the roots of the tree finally gave way, so I had to jump for it.

Thankfully, it was a very good jump, and I landed square on the Lord of the Eagles' back. An acceptable maneuver. I'm writing this as we fly.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Stop using the Red Ring of Fire to light pinecones.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Gwaihir's back**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Thorin doesn't look very good.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Gwaihir's back**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

The other Dwarves and Bilbo don't look like they're having much fun, either. They keep worrying and craning to look at Thorin, dangling limply from his Eagle's talons.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: Gwaihir's back**

**Date: June 18th, TA 2941**

Well, Bifur actually looks like he's having a grand time.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Carrock**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

The Eagles flew through the night, depositing us at the Carrock. I suppose we could have gotten a bit closer to our final destination, but the top of the Carrock simply has the best view of the Lonely Mountain. And I'd gotten the timing just right (of course). It was silhouetted against a lovely sunrise.

As soon as I landed, I rushed to Thorin's side.

It really wouldn't do to have the Exiled King die before even _seeing_ the dragon.

I healed him as much as I deemed wise, and then stood back.

Thorin's eyelids fluttered as he came out of his swoon and he whispered, "The Halfling?"

You're quite welcome, Thorin. It was no trouble at all. Don't mention it.

"It's quite all right," I said. "Bilbo is here. He's quite safe."

By that time the others had landed, and they positively mobbed Thorin. Oin was right in the thick of it, snapping orders for his healing pouch. Although the remains of his hearing-trumpet were back in the Goblin Kingdom, he was _suspiciously_ able to hear everyone through the chaos.

Dwalin and Kili helped Thorin stagger upright, but then he shrugged them off and took heavy steps over towards Bilbo, who had been standing slightly apart from the crowd, wide-eyed.

This was going to be good.

"You! What were you doing! You nearly got yourself killed!"

What.

"Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the Wild and that you had no place amongst us?"

Um.

Thorin kept stomping over to the Hobbit, whose expression had quickly gone from "relief" to "tentative smile" to "confusion" to "worry" and on into "paralyzed by terror."

"I have never been so wrong in all my life."

And then he hugged Bilbo.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 9th, TA 2941**

He-

Hmmm.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Carrock**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

What?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

Nothing, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Carrock**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

What did I miss?

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

I'll explain at a later date, perhaps.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Carrock**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

I don't understand.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

Continue with your report, Agent.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Carrock**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

Very well. But I am quite observant, you know. I will uncover whatever mystery this is.

**Agent: Saruman the White**

**Location: Isengard**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

Of course, Gandalf.

**Agent: Gandalf the Grey**

**Location: The Carrock**

**Date: June 19th, TA 2941**

Bilbo looked shocked and tentatively hugged Thorin back.

"I am sorry I doubted you," said Thorin.

Bilbo gave his nervous laugh. "No, I would have doubted me too. I'm not a hero or a warrior… not even a burglar."

Then I saw Thorin's gaze catch on something over Bilbo's shoulder. He disentangled himself from the Hobbit and stepped forward.

We all looked with him.

"Is that what I think it is?" breathed Bilbo.

"Erebor," I said. "The Lonely Mountain. The last of the great Dwarf kingdoms of Middle-earth."

"Our home," said Thorin.

Well, it doesn't have the same ring as "the last of the great Dwarf kingdoms of Middle-earth," but I suppose that works too.

And then we saw a thrush winging its way towards the Mountain. Very good timing. You may be surprised to learn that I didn't arrange that, but I dearly wish I had.

Oin grinned. "A raven! The birds are returning to the Mountain."

"That, my dear Oin," I corrected, "is a thrush."

Thorin, for once in his life, didn't say the pessimistic thing. Instead, he smiled.

"But we'll take it as a sign- a good omen."

"You're right," said Bilbo. He smiled, too.

"I do believe the worst is behind us."

Oh, Eru.

Things are about to get interesting, aren't they?

* * *

**Author's Note: Holy cow. How did this happen? The first movie/third of the book is over!**

**I think this is the bit when I get to say thank you so, so much. If you've clicked kudos or left a comment (that's you, AO3 people!), if you've favorited or left a review (looking at you, Fanficcers), or simply read and then flitted away like some creepy ghost-reader person: thank you. I started writing this because it was fun and silly, and I'm so happy that the reader count is somehow more than two (me and my Beta Ranubis, who doesn't really count because he's my brother and I sort of pounce on him every time I dash out a new chapter).**

**There's going to be one more Bonus Chapter, and then it's on to Operation Dragon: The Durin's Day Files.**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: None of this is mine. All rights belong to the great Tolkien and Peter Jackson.**

* * *

_The following report is extracted from the TA 2178 files._

* * *

**Agent: Radagast the Brown**

**Location: Somewhere in the Western bit of the Greenwood. Next to a very pretty ash-tree.**

**Date: ?**

Hello! I thought maybe it was time for my report! Are these supposed to be every century, or was it every week? Goodness knows. I've gotten a bit tired of wandering all over Middle-earth, to be honest, and just last week (month?) I stumbled across this charming forest! One of those Sindar lords- ridiculous lengths of blond hair, you know the sort- is the ruler or king or some such. But I don't think he'll mind one harmless old Wizard setting up shop along his borders, do you? He seems a pleasant enough chap! (Though he _eats meat_!)

So I'm building a house! Nothing too grand- just a little place to keep the rain off my head! Though I've nothing against rain! My friends the ducks tell me it's absolutely splendid to be out and feeling the rain wash against your beak! But some of my healing herbs really ought to be dried properly!

I think it will take a bit of time to construct everything, as I can't go around _chopping down trees_ or something equally ridiculous! But every once in a while I stumble upon a nice bit of storm-felled lumber. Such a shame to see the poor dead things lying in the muck. But I tell myself that in a way, they're having a second life! I tried discussing it with my friends the butterflies (they have such a _marvelous_ metamorphosis!), but alas, though they are very pretty, butterflies aren't famous for their deep psychological ponderings, as I am sure you know!

But I've already found a skunk den! The lady of the house is extremely polite and, I only discovered yesterday, is in the family way! Just imagine- soon there will be kits playing around in my front yard! You really should come and visit. Give me just the smallest warning, and I will make sure to have the good mushrooms and a dandelion-cake in time for tea!

Ah, speaking of mushrooms! How is Gandalf? Such a splendid person. Always willing to sit and chat! I haven't seen him for a good…. hmmm. A few decades? But you know how he likes to pop up at the most unexpected times! I haven't seen _you _in even longer! Letters simply aren't the same! And how are the Blues? I know they also went to the East, but I haven't heard much since then! We really ought to all get together, one great big I.S.T.A.R.I. reunion! I can make up cards for charades!

I've started a small gardening plot, of course. I do like to harvest from wild plants, but a few domestics are useful, as well! As I'm sure you're interested, I first had to spend some time testing the soil quality, and while the Greenwood is splendid, it isn't the best for those seeds that need a great deal of sunlight to reach their full potential [_the following section of report redacted for length_] and anyway, that's just a little bit of information on how _best _to get strawberries and mint to co-exist! Well! That's enough about the garden, I suspect!

I've also enclosed a good sample of specimens I hope you will appreciate, Saruman. They're in the attached envelope. Don't mind if there's a bit of leakage- you only need a bit, but I packed extra in case any got lost in transport!

Oh! And before I sign off, a request for you- I know you like the traditional way of things, but I am a bit concerned about the amount of ink and parchment these correspondences use up. Which is why I've written this report using berry-juice on leaves that have been pasted together with early-fall sap! What do you think? If it passes muster, I hope we can send all of our reports in this matter!

Yours in friendship (and say _hello_ to your charming Crebain for me!),

Radagast

_Attached documents: _

_-Essence of Nightshade marked 'Potential for common cold?' _

_-Fur and hair clippings labeled 'Lady Skunk,' 'Brown Bear,' and 'a bit off that Sindar fellow, I shouldn't think he'll miss it' _

_-Dung of various origins_

_-Daisy, pressed_

_-Bluebell, pressed_

_-Snapdragon, pressed_

_-Poison ivy_

_-Bottle of Blackberry jam_

_-Jar labeled 'Mucus collected from poor Mrs. Hedgehog's sickly hoglets'_

_-Blue jay feather_

* * *

**Author's Note: And now on to 'The Durin's Day Files!" Please note that as this is a series, if you're only following "The Handkerchief Files", you need to follow me personally for updates on all works connected to the world of the I.S.T.A.R.I. during _The Hobbit_.**


End file.
